


A Twist of Fate

by ElvenKnight



Category: Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 08:54:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 129,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25846921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElvenKnight/pseuds/ElvenKnight
Summary: Joren of Stone Mountain is blind and narrow-minded. This is true, right up until the winter of his first year as a Squire when the Trickster decides to intervene, but to what end? Follow Joren as he learns to change his ways in order to change his fate and he learns somethings about himself along the way as well.
Relationships: Joren of Stone Mountain/Keladry of Mindelan, Yukimi noh Daiomoru/Nealan of Queenscove
Comments: 17
Kudos: 48





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fan made story. I don’t own the rights to the Protector of the Small series, any of its characters belong to Tamora Pierce… Much to my disappointment. This goes AU about midway in the book Page. Fair warning. Constructive criticism is welcome but if you don’t like it simply because you don’t like the line of thinking, please don’t attack me for it. This is mostly centered on Joren. This is also a slow build Kel/Joren.

Part 1: To Change One’s Fate: Autumn 454

Joren wandered through the castle his knight-master had them stopped at for the next few days. He huffed at the location. It was a definitive progressive stronghold, Baron Coram Smythesson of Trebond had practically raised the Lioness and Baroness Rispah of Trebond was cousin to Baron George Cooper of Pirate’s Swoop who was the Lioness’s husband. Trebond was the birthplace of the Lioness as well. Joren practically sneered as he entered the library. His knight-master, Sir Paxton of Nond, had ordered him to find a book to entertain himself with while they were there.

The Nond family was supposed to be conservative, so Joren really would be a bit confused if he hadn’t realized his mistake with choosing his knight-master only a few weeks into his time as a Squire. Sir Paxton was all for female knights, as it turned out, much to Joren’s disgust. The man also went on and on about the necessity of having every fighter available being put to use with the newly returned immortals. He had even praised Sir Alanna’s fighting prowess. Joren shuddered in distaste over his misfortune of accepting the wrong knight-master but decided that he would simply have to stick it out for the next four years until his Ordeal and do his best to maintain his principles until then.

This thought turned his mind to another female who still hadn’t learnt her place. Keladry of Mindelan was still serving as a page, aiming for knighthood despite his best efforts. He wondered where his plans should go next to eliminate her when a voice startled him.

“I wouldn’t keep up with that line of thought, if I were you,” The masculine voice held both power and humor, causing Joren to jump. It was also distinctly unsettling.  
He quickly turned, expecting to see a servant or such who he would berate for addressing him without permission but instead found a glowing figure dress rather bizarrely in a sarong and wrap of all things. Joren immediately froze, his mouth half open from his intention to speak being stifled from shock.

“Not who you thought I would be, mhh?” the obvious god-like figure’s voice still held a great deal of humor. Joren merely shook his head, too in awe now to speak. “Yes, well, that does happen when you meet a god for the first time. It also doesn’t hurt that you have done quite a bit to honor me. Even if you didn’t realize it, it still stands. I’m Kyprioth in case you couldn’t figure that out on your own.”

Joren seemed to finally find both his voice and his courage but also his arrogance all at the same time, “Well, what do I owe the honor of the Trickster’s attention to? I’m not a thief so I can hardly see the purpose of drawing your attention.” He realized as soon as he spoke these words, that they were a mistake but Kyprioth merely smirked.

“Oh, I cover much more than just thieves, my dear boy. Every time someone pulls a prank or practical joke, they honor me. Every time they cause mischief, they add to my glory. You and your friends have done quite a bit of that. You have even done it so much that you didn’t just draw my attention but also the likes of Mithros and the Mother. Only, you see, my brother and sister, they aren’t pleased in the slightest by your mischief. They have even taken to planning a punishment for you if you go too far. So, as your patron god, even if you didn’t realize your actions made me such, I felt it was my duty to warn you of the dangers of the path you are on.

“Plus, it is annoying for me with my siblings glaring at me every time you prank Keladry of Mindelan. I really don’t need their attentions too focused on me at the moment. It interferes with my own pranks. So, change your ways. Obey your knight-master. Do all the little things you are supposed to, learn your lessons and steer clear of messing with the girl,” Kyprioth finished with a flourish but didn’t leave immediately. He was far too used to his followers being irreverent and disobedient to actually expect the boy to simply listen to him and do as he was told.

Joren laughed, much to Kyprioth’s amusement before asking, “What’s it to me? It sounds more like you’re planning some sort of mischief and don’t want the other gods to pay any attention to you. Why would you care what happens to me? Besides, I seriously doubt that Mithros would be disappointed with my plans to right the imbalance of women becoming fighters, it isn’t natural. For all I know you are trying to thwart Mithros’s plans by driving me from my path.” Joren had become more confident as the god in question didn’t seem to care about his insolence at all.

Kyprioth shrugged before gesturing for Joren to follow him. He led the 14-year-old boy to a fire and waved his hand above the fire, “I am actually doing this as a favor to you as one of my followers. Believe it or not, I don’t have so many of you that I would just let one who has been so dedicated to simply get himself killed by sheer stupidity. This is your fate if you disregard me. Look long and hard at it. I like your mischief, just direct it into less harmful avenues or you will regret it.” 

With this the god vanished, leaving an image of the chamber of Ordeal opening on Joren’s dead body shimmering in the fire. Joren, for the first time since he recovered from the fact that he was in the presence of a god, was visibly shaken. As he stood there staring into the flames, he heard the god’s voice one last time, “Also, I recommend actually thinking about why you are so obsessed with the girl. After all, it isn’t just her gender since you know there isn’t any real way to stop her or others like her from gaining their knighthood.”

After the god’s parting words, the image in the flame vanished but the boy continued to stare at the fire contemplating the words of the god and the knowledge that if he didn’t change his path, he would be dead in less than four years. A good half hour of his staring passed before a noise startled him again, this time he looked like he had seen a ghost when he turned to face the person interrupting his thoughts. It was Baroness Rispah, setting some books on the nearby table.

“Sorry about that. I know Kyprioth visited you. He paid me a visit as well. Although, I suspect I am a little more comfortable with him. He has never been shy with his followers, unlike some other gods. Anyways, if you’re looking for a place to start, these books should help you. Also, listen and follow your knight-master’s instructions. Take what he says to heart. He grew up in a conservative family but still learnt to adapt to the need of looking forward. You can as well. You can keep these books. They see little use here at the moment,” With this the Baroness left, the books laying the table.

Joren walked over to the table and picked up the books. The first was the code of Chivalry. The fact that it was at the top of the list struck him as surprising since it was something that had been drilled into him and his peers during their page years. The second book was a history of female knights. This one made him sneer but he ignored the distaste and looked at the third and final book. It was, surprisingly, a rather old, dusty, and musty copy of a book simply entitled How to Court a Lady Knight Without Causing Offense. 

This was the most offensive of the three books but after a moment’s hesitation, Joren collected all three and, careful to avoid others, made his way back to his rooms. The book on chivalry stayed out so he could present his ‘reading choice’ to Sir Paxton, but the other two carefully and artfully were concealed within his personal saddle bags. It was more a matter of embarrassment about them that he hid them rather than any guilt. After all, the Baroness had literally told him to keep the books.

He then decided that if he really didn’t want to die because of his own actions, he had best get to his god-assigned reading and opened up the first page of the book on chivalry and began studying it in a way that he never had as a page. An hour later, when Sir Paxton came to check on him, he asked Joren what he was reading so intently. When the boy replied, Paxton, much to the boy’s surprise, offered to explain anything that confused him and showed pride at the reading material and left the boy to his studying. 

Joren realized that this was the first time Sir Paxton had shown his absolute approval of his actions and that caused him to think back over the past two months and realized that the man had only shown clear disproval over much of his reading material and opinions. This impressed on him to push further into reading the book. As he did this, he realized that much of his actions as a page had, in truth, been the very opposite of chivalry. As such, he had been going away from rather than towards his knighthood. He ended up reading until Sir Paxton collected him for dinner and he then started to ask questions of both Paxton and Baron Coram. 

In the end, most of the conversation over the course of the next few days involved the basics of chivalry. Baron Coram even shared a few anecdotes about the time Sir Alanna spent as a page and squire. Joren was surprised that, unlike Keladry, who seemed to be a natural with both fighting and weapons and was naturally tall and big-boned, the Lioness had to work against her much smaller stature in building strength and put in extensive practice with weaponry beyond her normal training. 

Coram explained that while females were typically naturally smaller due to their bone structures, they could often times overcome this with building up agility and stamina making them more than capable of holding their own against others. Doing so could often actually put them at an advantage to some men who merely rely on their brute strength rather than genuine skill to win a fight. Joren took this information to heart because such could also be applied to smaller fighters in general. 

By the end of their stay, while Joren still felt that women in general shouldn’t be warriors, it was simply too soon for him to completely change his stance, he felt that it was possible for there to be some exceptions to that rule. Sir Alanna had obviously had the Goddess’s permission to do so and thus was one such example. Page Keladry, he conceded, could be another since she was clearly built more in the scale of a man and had never really been raised to behave as a lady should. He used this to reconcile the fact that he would no longer interfere with the girl. Peasant women could, of course, choose to join the Queen’s Riders if they wished, since they were never raised delicately in the first place. As for the rest of the noble women, well, he decided that they clearly knew that a warrior’s life wasn’t for them.

Despite all this, he completely ignored that fact that many noble women did fight to defend their homes when their husbands were away, his mother included. In the end, Kyprioth sighed. He knew that even if he had lost a follower, the boy was clearly on the path to be a strict follower of Mithros now, he had also caused a great deal of mischief for his siblings to sort through. The two other gods had not paid any mind as to why the boy had behaved as he had, only that he had behaved in such a way. He hoped that the young man actually would follow his heart and the path that Paxton of Nond would walk him down since those were the best odds for confounding his siblings and a good source of amusement for him as well.


	2. Winter 454/455

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the next are establishing chapters for the course of the story as a whole

When Sir Paxton took Joren to Fief Trebond, he had only hoped that interacting with two people who had risen from the status of ‘peasants’ to that of ‘nobles’ would give the boy a sharp reminder that the circumstances of one’s birth didn’t determine their worth. In fact, Sir Paxton had once been a like-minded individual in his young squire. It had taken nearly dying in combat only to be saved by the Lioness and a group of Queen’s riders for him to learn that gender or station in life didn’t determine their worth. 

He now made a concentrated effort to teach the squires from conservative families like his own the lesson he had learnt the hard way, even those he didn’t personally train. He had been by no means horrible before he learnt his mistake, simply closed minded. He hoped that he could help others in that situation to learn to be more open to the changes in Tortall and learning they were for the better. He didn’t always succeed, but most of the squires had at least learnt that not liking something didn’t make it evil or wrong. 

Up until now, he had had no success when it came to Joren, at least not visibly. Now, however he saw a very abrupt and definitive change. The boy was practically inhaling all information that came to Chivalry as if it was his only chance of survival. In a way, it was, considering the Chamber of Ordeal was literally designed to test your worth as a potential knight and, at their finest, knights took the code to be the rules they lived by. From what he had heard, the girl took the code so seriously that she had declared war on hazing because it was directly counter intuitive. 

As it was, with Joren’s newfound obsession for chivalry, Sir Paxton brushed up on the topic as well and started bringing certain points to the boy’s attention. Ironically, it was in his family’s home Fief that Joren was doing most of this studying. Paxton’s own mother, Florzile was, thankfully, uninterested in Joren, as he, as a squire fell under the providence of men. Merovec, Paxton’s younger brother, however, did show some interest as his betrothed was the sister of Page Keladry and he had heard of Joren’s mischief. As a scholar, Merovec was a good source of information for Joren.

It was a few weeks into their being at Nond that Paxton’s brother approached him, quite confused, “Pax, do you know that your squire is reading a book on lady knights? He asked me for my opinion on their influence in history last night.”

Sir Paxton looked genuinely surprised by this, “Huh. No, I didn’t. Not that I’m complaining. I swear, up until I visited Trebond with him, Joren was as stiff as our father and mother are. Something happened. I don’t know what, but something caused his ridged nature to snap because, by the time we left, he was respectful to both Baron Coram and his wife, both of whom were born from the lower classes. It is quite remarkable, really, when you think about it. I am surprised that he is progressing so quickly. It’s like overnight he went from having a stick up his ass to diving head first into anything I am willing to teach him. He hasn’t completely changed, mind, but the fact that he is even willing to read a book on lady knights or learn anything about them is stunning in and of itself.”

“Well, what ever happened, I would suggest you encourage this forward thinking. Both the king and his heir are very progressively minded. Sticking to conservative mentality would only hurt him and his family in the long run. In a way, I am glad you have embraced a more progressive stance, even if you do so quietly. Father will hardly live much longer and the opinions of the those who are from his generation are quickly losing hold. Also, I will of course answer squire Joren’s questions, but you should study up on the answers too. You will need to have opinions before he starts questioning you as well,” Paxton smiled at his younger brother’s comment before going back to his own reading, making a mental note to look into the history of female knights. If his squire was asking about such things, perhaps there was greater hope for the boy after all.

Much as always, spending the winter months near his parents left Paxton taxed in his reserves of patience. This time however, he held onto the gleeful thought that Joren was improving at a rather remarkable rate. Joren had seemed to have embraced the Code of Chivalry and the two had held many conversations on the topic. Joren had even, eventually, and very tentatively, started a conversation about the potential value of females in military positions just before the start of spring.

“Sir Paxton?” Joren knocked on his door at the usual time for their lessons and discourse over what Joren had been reading.

“Come in Joren,” Paxton happily replied, putting his correspondence away. 

Joren obeyed, carefully holding a book in his arms, hiding the title. Joren took his normal seat and looked at Sir Paxton with uncertainty before speaking, “So… well… I have been reading a book on lady knights…”

Paxton had to hold back a smile at the way the boy stated it. Where before their trip to Trebond Joren had been arrogant and a general brat, he now seemed to have lost most of his self-confidence. Paxton had been working to build his confidence back up, but only to a healthy amount. Long gone was the arrogant ice prince and in his place was a child who needed proper guidance and attention, and more importantly, was looking to him to give it. Paxton had come to realize that Burchard of Stone Mountain had been a father only in name and had done very little to educate or even care for his son beyond ensure that the boy would share his own opinions. Paxton had thus taken it upon himself to fill the duties of a father in a way. Lord Burchard had three other children, two daughters and a son, and Paxton felt that in the end, it would fall to Joren to ensure that his sisters didn’t face a horrible fate by marrying someone like their own father.

“Yes, I heard about that. You wish to make that tonight’s topic of discussion on Chivalry?” Paxton nodded, willing to let Joren take the lead in the conversation.   
It was in this way that the boy learnt that his own opinions were important but not the only ones to be had. Joren did just that, knowing what his knight-master expected by this point. He explained that Baroness Rispah had gifted him a book on Lady knights before they left Trebond and he had begun reading it recently, out of curiosity. As he went on, it because apparent to Paxton that Joren was fighting conflicting beliefs. 

He didn’t seem to understand how lady knights could be able to live the lives of noble women and warriors despite having a living example in the Lioness. When Paxton pointed this out, Joren argued that was only possible because she had a commoner for a husband and the aid of the Goddess. Paxton shook his head by the end of the night and recommended that the boy sleep on it and reminded him that they would be heading to Corus in a week’s time to see what kind of business the realm needed fulfilled for a knight.

A week later, Joren still hadn’t reconciled the two concepts so Paxton suggested that Joren ask his own peer, Page Keladry, how she planned to make the two work. Joren balked at the idea at first.

“Tell me why exactly you are uncomfortable with asking Page Keladry such things?” Paxton pressed on the second day of their journey. 

“I’ve mocked and tormented her throughout the two years we have known each other,” Joren finally answered uncomfortable about the truth. “She will hardly think I am doing anything other than mocking her now.”

“Well, perhaps you should apologize for your past behavior. You are hardly the same person you were before. If you work hard, you can make amends for your past mistakes. Perhaps, if you like, I can speak to Lord Wyldon and see if he will permit you to train with her a little?” Sir Paxton offered before continuing. “Just, whatever you do, don’t insult her or imply her incapable. That girl has more than proved her worth from what I’ve heard.”

Joren thought for a moment before nodding his agreement. They were only a few hours from Corus at this point and Joren resolved to apologize at the first opportunity and he declared his intention to do so to Sir Paxton who smirked at the small sign of confidence in the boy. It would take time yet, he knew, for the teen to learn there was a difference between bravado and real, justifiable confidence. The former is a show for others, the latter something built up with success, experience, and understanding, and overall is earned.

As it so happened, when the two of them passed through the palace gates a few hours later, the lady in question was on the curtain wall. Joren looked confused by her actions, “Why is she up there? She’s terrified of heights.” This comment made Sir Paxton chuckle.

“Courage is not the absence of fear but the proof that there is something within you greater and more powerful than fear itself,” Paxton quoted an old general whom he couldn’t remember the name of. “Page Keladry is likely up there facing that which she fears because she realizes that she can’t allow her fear to control her. If you fail to face your fears, they merely grow larger with time. Never forget that.”

Joren looked at Paxton with a bit of awe before asking, “How do you know what she is thinking?”

“I know because I have been where she is now. I abhor heights as well, not that I would admit it to many. It is a fairly common fear, in truth. After all, who isn’t afraid of falling to their death? My father was rather brutal about not allowing my fear to control me, however. When he learnt of it, which was inevitable really, he moved my things to the highest room in the tower of our castle. You know the one. He then insisted on me looking from the windows of all the towers and describing everything I saw every morning. He would even have servants doing random things below so that I couldn’t cheat,” Paxton explained as he dismounted when they came into the palace stables. “Now, I believe it is time for you to face your own fears. I will rub down Star Scream. You go give an overdue apology.”


	3. Spring 455

Page Keladry of Mindelan stood on the curtain wall sketching the ground between the palace’s Least Gate and Corus. She had been up there for some time before noticing she had company. Joren had apparently seen her on the curtain wall when he had come in through the gates earlier. Why he had chosen to join her left her quite confused. His behavior was also a bit off. He seemed completely at ease, watching her sketch, he hadn’t even bothered to draw her attention to himself.

“I thought you were afraid of heights,” Were the first words out of his mouth. 

The confusion in his voice caused Keladry to put on her Yamani mask and she blankly responded, “I am.”

Joren shifted, realizing he had offended her and attempted to recover from his mistake, “You don’t act like you are.” He realized after he said it that his tone wasn’t right but brushed it off.

“Well, that’s something,” Kel responded sarcastically.

Figuring that as he had already poked the sore spot he could figure out if Sir Paxton was right in his reasoning, “If you are afraid, why do it? They won’t test you on it in the little or big exams.” Joren tried to make his voice sound reasonable as he asked, hoping he sounded merely curious.

“My lord will, when I receive punishment work, or the gods will the next time I need to help someone where height is involved. Just because I won’t be tested in the exams doesn’t mean that it isn’t still a problem I need to face,” Kel informed him. Joren had to hold back a smile at the idea that his knight-master was right about the girl’s reasoning.

He watched her quietly for a while, debating on how best to apologize. He had already messed up a bit by poking at a weakness that he had mocked in the past. Then a thought occurred to him and before he realized it, it was pouring from his mouth, “Why do any of this? It isn’t needful. Did someone tell you that you had no chance to marry?” Joren was almost too used to asking questions with how much Sir Paxton had encouraged it over the past few months. He, however, was instantly regretting asking it, although he still wished to know the answer. After all, she was rather pretty in her own sort of way.

Kel’s hand jerking, smearing what she was working on told him that she was unsettled by the question and a part of him, one that was now much quieter than in the past, felt a jolt of excitement from getting a rise out of her. Her making a face as she moved to fix it only made that feeling grow, even as Joren felt guilt for asking something so personal. 

“It’s not true. You’d be a pretty thing, in the right clothing…” He figured he could try to fix it, so it didn’t sound a bad as it had come out. He hesitated before continuing. “You’d make a fine wife for one of those big fellows- Cleon, for instance. He seems fond of you. How about Lord Raoul? He can certainly afford a wife. You could settle down and raise young giants.”

He smiled half-heartedly, even as he suggested those men a part of him that he had been trying to suppress rebelled and made him feel extremely uncomfortable at the idea of The Girl paying attention to other men. The part that got excited about getting a rise out of her seemed to agree. He also noticed the incredulous look coming from her, as if in disbelief.

“It’s so kind of you to worry about my marriage prospects,” Kel replied, her face once more blank and her voice equally so. “Has it occurred to you that I don’t want to marry?”

Before he could stop himself, the part of him that was now in full blown rebellion in himself and the part that wanted another rise out of her united and he found his mouth moving of its own violation, “Nonsense. All women care about marriage. Even the Lioness scraped up a husband, though she had to dig through the middens of Corus to do it.” He felt horror wash through him as he realized he had just insulted Keladry’s hero. He fought to keep his emotions from showing and could only hope he managed it, for all that he felt heat flushing his face. A third, recently more active part of his brain started kicking the other two parts for making him look like a fool and his apology seemed less and less likely to be accepted.

“If you say so,” Kel replied and returned to her mapping, ignoring him.

He hesitated, she obviously wanted nothing more to do with him but at the same time he still needed to apologize. After a few more moments of silence, his logic won out over the other two sources of emotion, if he didn’t apologize now, there was no telling if he ever would get the courage to do so. 

However, the other parts of him weren’t going to make it easy, “I’m-sorry- for-everything.” Joren finally managed to blurt out in a barely coherent sentence, his lack of true self-confidence shining through. The expression of surprise on Keladry’s face as she looked at him caused two parts of him to crow with glee and the rest of him feel the sheer weight of embarrassment of how his apology came out. 

“Excuse me?” Kel asked causing him to freeze in his spot. 

He was about to flee from the embarrassment, but her statement made him think she hadn’t fully heard what he had said. For a few horror-stricken moments, he stood frozen as the different parts within him warred within himself, but he managed to keep his face relatively straight, even if he did feel a light blush creeping up his cheeks. Eventually, he managed to compose himself enough to give a proper apology, like she deserved, “I said I am sorry. For all of my previous behavior that is. Sir Paxton has taught me a lot in the past few months and I- I have begun to realize that how I, and others, treated you was wrong.” He looked away, aware that he was blushing in full now.

Kel stared at him in shock. She had thought that she had misheard him at first but his reiteration and even elaboration made it quite clear that he had truly apologized. After a few seconds she paused before asking, “Why now? What could have changed so much in the few months that you were gone to have made you have a change of heart?”

“Sir Paxton… He doesn’t tolerate or turn a blind eye to the kind of behavior that I exhibited here at the palace. He has been very diligent in my education on the matters of chivalry,” Joren stated, he felt there was no need for her to know that Sir Paxton’s efforts had been worthless until a god had shown him his fate if he followed his old path. It was one he was determined to avoid, even at the cost of his pride.

A cautious nod of acceptance was his reward for his effort, and he did his best to maintain a composed manner as he walked away from her even though one part of him danced with glee at her accepting his apology and another part warning that he would have to prove that he was serious with his actions, not just words. It wasn’t until he reached his rooms in the Squire’s wing and carefully closed his door that he let all the emotions sweep over him. He allowed the feelings to flow over him and briefly wondered if this was how Keladry felt all the time behind her blank mask. If so, he really couldn’t blame her for keeping them locked away from the world, especially with people like him and his friends around to torment and pester her.

This thought caused him to pause. His friends had always followed his lead when it came to bullying others. Zahir ibn Alhaz had stopped participating in the hazing in their fourth year of page training, so he might be alright to maintain a friendship with. Thinking on it, he realized that Zahir had stated that he found their behavior childish and distasteful. Vinson of Genlith however, he realized, it was now a distasteful thought that he could have ever been close friends with him. While he had bullied, it had mostly been taking a tradition too far. 

Vinson, however, liked to make the younger pages suffer. It was unlikely Vinson would grow out of his cruel ways. Joren decided he would have to be careful in the future when it came to the Squire because the Genlith family held power, they were as old of a nobility as the Stone Mountain family. He decided that he wouldn’t antagonize Vinson openly unless it was a matter of honor, his or another’s. 

Garvey of Runnerspring was a bit of an uncertainty. He was always more of a follower than the other two had been. Joren debated before figuring that he would have to see how Garvey behaved before making any decisions. With this thought, he realized the fact that he had managed to once more gain control over his emotions by focusing on something other than the cause of them. He smiled a little. His father had always discouraged even the slightest sign of feelings, saying that they were a weakness. Sir Paxton, in comparison had shown him that it was ok to feel emotions, just not make them obvious to the world to see. He realized now that his suppression of emotions made it all the harder for him to control them now. 

It was also at this point that he came to the realization that he had been make a lot of those realizations about himself of late. He could only hope that the more he learnt the more control he regained over his life. It seemed to him that the more he learnt about the things he should know, the more he realized he had no idea about other things equally important. To say it was unsettling was an understatement. This reminded him that he should report to his knight-master and perhaps continue reading the latest in the books he had been assigned to read by him. He also remembered that he would need to complete a report for the training master on what he had learnt while under Sir Paxton’s care. He chuckled a little at the thought since he knew that Lord Wyldon would be startled to find that he had been studying about lady knights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I am aware that Joren has become a bit OOC but let’s face it, if he actually was faced with the blunt fact of death there is little likelihood that he wouldn’t do everything possible to avoid it. Also, I believe that this is the Joren hidden behind all the bluff and bluster. I have found that the more egotistical a person is, the less self-confident they truly are. They like to put others down in order to rise themselves up.


	4. Spring 455 part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joren proves his sincerity

It was a few weeks after his apology to Kel, as he had begun to call her at least in his mind, that an opportunity to prove his sincerity, to both her, and himself, fell into his lap. Joren had left his door and windows open to allow for air flow as the evening was warm. As a result, he ended up hearing a struggle in the courtyard below his window. He peaked out over the ledge of his window, not enough to be seen but enough to see what was going on.

He felt a wave of dread as he saw that Kel’s maid was fighting to free herself from Vinson’s grip. She was positioned poorly however and was unable to free herself from the Squire’s grip. Uncomfortable at the idea of having to intervene but deciding it was necessary, Joren moved away from his window to head down to assist the woman when he heard Kel’s voice strongly demanding that Vinson release Lalasa. He moved instantly back to the window, careful to remain out of sight while he observed. 

Joren was only able to watch Vinson’s fleeing back and Kel calming her maid. No more than a few minutes passed before he heard Vinson storming past his room and slamming his door shut. By this time, Kel had taken her maid back inside and Joren had abandoned the window to debate what to do about what he had seen. He was still contemplating this when he heard another body storm past his room and start banging on Vinson’s. The sound of Kel threatening Vinson through the door brought Joren to his, he carefully hid behind the now slightly cracked open door but still listened closely. 

It took him only a few seconds to realize that for some reason Kel wasn’t going to report Vinson. It was insane because he realized that if he was going to stand by the principles he wanted to, he would need to face this head on. As Kel moved back past his room he grabbed her arm and pulled her in before quickly shutting and locking the door.

Kel’s expression went quickly from surprised to thunderous when she saw who had grabbed her. It changed to confusion when Joren rose his hands and quickly said, “Please, don’t be mad!”

Kel crossed her arms, clearly unwilling to indulge him but he stood between her and his very much locked door, “Give me one good reason.” Her voice was complete ice causing Joren to flinch.

“I overheard what happened and I need to know why you aren’t reporting Vinson. It isn’t like you to not report something that serious,” Joren blurted quickly, before he could think. He was quickly realizing that he now had a tendency towards doing that around her. It was causing an uncomfortable level of honesty that he realized couldn’t hurt since it would prove his sincerity in an off-handed sort of way.

“Why does it matter to you?” Kel asked, still stiff, but slightly less guarded. She seemed to realize that he held no ill intentions towards her despite his abrupt behavior.

“Because… because it isn’t like you and I need to know why. You wouldn’t turn your back on something like that. You didn’t when we were hazing, and I don’t think you would now. If there is some reason that you can’t report him, let-me-help,” Joren wondered if she understood the last bit, it had come out so quickly, but judging by her hanging jaw perhaps she had.

“Why do you want to help?” Kel seemed to be cautious still but her guard had lowered a little more which caused Joren to relax a bit more.

“Because what Vinson did was wrong, and I know enough about him to know that he has always enjoyed the pain of others. He won’t feel remorse or stop, no matter what you say or threaten him with,” Joren was speaking much more coherently now, to Kel’s relief and she even cracked a little smile at the fact that he was admitting that Vinson had been clearly in the wrong.

“So, you want to help see him punished?” Kel asked, now much more relaxed. She even offered him a half-smile. When Joren nodded, she sighed. “I’m not reporting him because Lalasa asked me not to. She is worried about what will happen to her uncle if I did, there is apparently a fear of him losing his job through some difficult set of circumstances. She also said that it would ruin her reputation, even though she was a victim.”

“I can help with that,” Joren offered.

“How? You have no influence over the palace servants,” Kel commented.

“No, but I did hear a struggle below my window with a maid and saw Vinson going back to his room with scratches on his face. I can report that to my knight-master. I will tell him I didn’t know who the maid was, but she fought him off. He certainly bares the marks to prove it. Sir Paxton is guaranteed to report it to Lord Wyldon. Even if Vinson isn’t punished for it, Lord Wyldon will keep a close eye on him and so will his knight-master. Nualt of Rosemark is a good man and not one who approves of assaulting a woman, regardless of rank,” Joren grew more confident as he offered his plan. “No one will know that you or Lalasa were involved. In fact, since I will say I definitely didn’t recognize the maid and Vinson is hardly likely to admit to who he assaulted for fear of punishment, Lord Wyldon will likely dismiss you both out of hand. Plenty of maids work in the Page’s wing and Lord Wyldon would think that if you were involved then you would report it.”

Something in Kel’s demeanor seemed to melt a little and she smiled a genuine smile at him for the first time ever, “You really would do that? Just to make sure he wouldn’t get away with it?”

Joren’s nod was all she needed to continue, “Ok, I accept your offer. Thank you. You know, I was skeptical about your claims for changing, but if you are willing to report someone who is your friend perhaps you’re telling the truth after all.”

Joren couldn’t help the deep blush the broke out over his face at her words and smile before going to unlock the door and check to make sure no one was about to witness her leaving his rooms. Before doing so though, he paused and said, “He isn’t my friend. He hasn’t been since I returned and realized that we were following completely different paths now.” With this, he checked the hall and gestured for her to leave quickly and quietly.

He waited a half hour to ensure that no suspicion could arise, and he figured it wouldn’t be unreasonable for him to hesitate to report someone who he used to be friends with. Sir Paxton was surprised to see Joren since they had already done their lessons for the day. Joren didn’t waste any time in giving his slightly altered version of what he witnessed. He made sure that he explained that he didn’t get a good look at the maid as Vinson was blocking the view of her and he could only say it was a maid by the dress she wore and the pitch of her voice. Sir Paxton’s frown deepened further through the brief narrative while the 15-year-old paced as he told his tale. When he finished, Sir Paxton told him that it needed to be reported to the training master immediately, although it was unfortunate that he didn’t recognize the maid who was attacked.

Paxton led Joren through the mostly empty halls quickly and silently thanked the gods that there were so few people about. Since the victim was an unknown, they couldn’t seek persecution of Vinson, regardless of having a witness. As such, he wanted to keep it quiet that Joren was the one to report the other Squire. It would cause a good deal of problems if it got out that Joren had so blatantly turned his back on a noble in favor of seeking justice for a lowly commoner. 

It made Paxton proud of his Squire that the teen would do something that so strictly followed the code of Chivalry and showed that he had really been taking his lessons to heart. While before he had felt concern for Joren’s future if his negative behavior persisted, he now felt extremely optimistic for the new trend it followed. With any luck, Joren would be an exemplarity knight and a noble worthy of the deepest respect.

When the two of them reached Lord Wyldon’s study, Paxton was relieved to note that his secretary wasn’t present. Paxton knocked on the door and Lord Wyldon called out for him to enter. Sir Paxton bowed to the training master and Joren followed suit, knowing the seriousness of the visit. Their formality unsettled Wyldon but he stood and offered them both seats. When they declined, Wyldon’s concerns rose. Sir Paxton related quickly to Lord Wyldon what Joren had told him. When he finished, Lord Wyldon questioned Joren to see if there were any other details to be had that he hadn’t told Sir Paxton. 

Joren fidgeted only a little as he told Lord Wyldon the same thing he told Sir Paxton. Lord Wyldon took it as being uncomfortable about having to report a friend for something so horrible. At the same time, he felt the same swell of pride in the boy that Paxton felt, that he should do the right thing, regardless of the rank of the people involved. Wyldon assured Sir Paxton that the identity of the person who reported the incident would be kept between them and would only be identified as a Squire. As there were seventeen squires in residence in the palace at that point, it was unlikely that Vinson or his knight-master would figure out who it was. 

Lord Wyldon told them that he would enquire with Selma, the head of the servants in the page and squire wings if one of the maids appeared to be harmed or unsettled, but unless the maid came forward, there was nothing that could be done. Wyldon did assure them, however, that a record would be made and kept. He then ordered them to leave so that he could summon Vinson and Sir Nualt of Rosemark. He pulled a cord for his servant as the two left and then sighed in frustration over the situation. It would be a long night for him.

It wasn’t even a day later that Joren found his room being forcefully invaded by Vinson. Apparently, the other squire hadn’t gotten the message when Joren had actively avoided him in the past few weeks since he had returned with Sir Paxton. Vinson was pacing back and forth as if he had every right to be there. 

After a few minutes of this, Joren became frustrated, “Vinson, what are you doing?” He was careful to keep his voice relatively neutral.

“That dumb little bitch reported me. I don’t know how she did it, Sir Nualt says the Lord Wyldon told him a squire reported me, but I know it was her. She probably got one of her little lover boys to do it. Cleon most likely,” Vinson rambled. “I need a way to get back at her. You were always the brains. We need to get rid of her. Make her pay and make that slut servant of hers pay too.”

Joren’s blood ran cold as he realized what Vinson was talking about. The marks were still clearly on his face, but he decided the best way to go about handling this was to play things safe. He may get tongue tied around Kel or even thinking about her but with pretty much everyone else his mind was clear, and he was thinking a mile a minute, “What are you talking about? And what happened to your face? It looks like someone attacked you.” Joren felt playing dumb about what he knew was the best route to take given the circumstances. 

If he could get Vinson to openly admit to who he attacked, he can swear to it under mage truth spells. Perhaps he could see Vinson convicted without needing to get Kel involved. Unfortunately, Vinson wasn’t stupid enough to openly admit to it, “It doesn’t matter. What does is that she has got to pay. We need to force her to show what kind of useless slut she is, her and her maid.”

“I can’t get involved,” Joren stated coldly once he realized that Vinson wasn’t going to give him anything. He decided now was as good a time as any to distance himself permanently from his former friend. “Sir Paxton watches my every move. I am under strict orders to be civil to Mindelan. Her sister is marrying Sir Paxton’s younger brother.”

Vinson looked surprised by Joren’s open refusal to assist him in destroying Kel. Joren had to be careful to conceal a smirk that wanted to come forth. When Vinson finally spoke, it was with incredulity, “You aren’t interested in getting rid of The Girl?!”

“In case you’ve failed to notice, we’re training to be knights. Whatever you think, at this point anything capable of making her leave would have to be illegal. I’m not stupid. Mindelan won’t stop at anything to achieve her goal. I am not going to be involved with anything that will cost me my knighthood because of some girl, no matter who the girl is,” Joren’s voice had gone to ice at this point. 

Vinson looked at him in surprise before nodding slowly, “You’ve changed.” 

“Yes, I’ve moved beyond childish antics. There are more important things for me to focus on. Now, if you will excuse me, I have training with Sir Paxton. We’re going to be working on my tilting,” Joren opened his door for Vinson to walk out. He wasn’t even making up an excuse. He really was expected in the courtyards for tilting practice. After Vinson walking out, he followed suit and locked his door before leaving his former friend standing in the squire’s wing as he made his way to the practice courtyards.


	5. Summer 455

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joren learns a bit of wisdom and makes a new friend.

Vinson was gone a week later. Joren figured that his knight-master must have forbidden him from getting the marks on his face healed because he still bore them when they rode off. He was followed by Cleon who left with Sir Inness, Kel’s brother. Joren felt a jolt of what he now recognized as jealousy as he watched Cleon and Kel leaving the mess hall together just before Cleon left. A few days after that, Sir Paxton announced to Joren that he didn’t feel like staying around the palace after all. The thought of spending even more time around Lord Markith of Nond, who would be arriving the following week for his share in politics, caused Joren to shudder as did the thought of encountering his own father Lord Burchard. 

In the end, they left just before when most of the Lords and such were due to begin arriving at the palace. Joren briefly debated saying goodbye to Keladry, as they had been more pleasant towards each other over the past few weeks but eventually decided against it. He was starting to suspect why he was becoming unsettled by the girl and he wasn’t sure he could handle facing the truth of it just yet. A part of him wanted it to be something fleeting but a bigger, more logical part of him told him that his obsession had always been a manifestation of it. He pushed the thought away as they rode north. There had been unrest on the border of Scanran and Sir Paxton had decided that was where they would go. Sir Paxton had explained that chivalry meant protecting the people at large as well as the individual. Joren didn’t mind at all with the idea. 

The weather wasn’t the most pleasant since the snow hadn’t really melted towards the north in their travels. Joren’s expression made Sir Paxton laugh but Joren knew better than to voice his displeasure. The event a few years prior with Lord Wyldon and the knowledge that Sir Paxton was of a similar perspective taught him that such efforts would only earn him a scolding. It was fortunate that the road north was lined with the crown’s Inns meant that they could avoid the worst of the weather without much issue. 

Sir Paxton told him that few knights were willing to face the bitter cold of the north to simply avoid a crowded Inn. Most would either wait until the weather was more pleasant or they would head south, especially if they had squires. Joren thought briefly that wasn’t what Sir Paxton was doing and his expression must have said as much.

“I would have headed south had you not shown the kind of progress I’ve seen in you. A stubborn squire can get a knight killed. Had you been of a similar disposition as you were when I first took you as a squire, I wouldn’t have even considered taking you north. You would have gotten both of us killed. Last year, you thought you knew the answers to everything. That is a bad way of thinking if you want to be a knight of any caliber,” Paxton smiled at the boy who looked at him with shock.

“So, the reason we just roamed over the country doing boring little tasks was because I failed to see the importance of those tasks?” Joren asked, completely seriously.

“Yes. That is typically how I start out with all my squires in their first year with me. I like taking the stubborn, conservative ones and knocking them down a few pegs like the Lioness did with me just after I got my knighthood. Granted, I have only had one before you. I earned my knighthood just before the Immortals war broke out in full swing. I ever tell you about what happened?” Sir Paxton chuckled indulgently.

“No, Sir. I don’t believe you have,” Joren replied as he shifted his seat. He had heard that the Lioness had saved him, just never how.

“Well, I was one of the knights stationed at Port Legann. It was one of the focal points for the war. Anyways, there I was, we were facing one of the nastiest wars in recent history, and I am on sentry duty. It was boring most nights, but occasionally the enemy would make an attempt to attack, so we had to keep vigilant. Well, a couple of spidren come up to my post, no doubt expecting an easy meal. I decided that I could take them on by myself, only my sword in hand. I didn’t know who the sentry to my left was, but the one to the right was Lioness herself and I wasn’t going to lose face by looking to a woman for help. 

“Well, she heard my shout when one of them nicked my leg with a broad sword. It wasn’t anything that would have cost me a leg normally, only it hit a tendon, so I was pretty much unable to stand. So, there I was, going to die because of my stupid pride, and I was willing to admit it really was my stupid pride, when out of seemingly nowhere the Lioness shows up, bow strung and drawn with an arrow nocked already. She put two arrows into the spidren about to finish me off before putting three in the other,” Sir Paxton looked at Joren with a knowing look and received one of understanding return before continuing.

“Then, as if saving my life wasn’t enough, she had to go and rub salt in the wound by telling me that I should have kept a bow on me because when it came to spidren, it is always best to fight them at long range. They simply have too many arms to fight close combat. She then proceeds to heal my leg, good as new, without my permission mind. Then, when we were questioned, she had the gall to claim that I had called for assistance. See, the other sentry had pulled the same dumb move as me and was already dead, so he couldn’t counter it,” Sir Paxton shook his head. “She saved both my life and my pride and dignity by keeping me from looking like a true fool.”

“So, I take it that the moral of the story is, regardless of their gender, if they are good in a fight, you want them at your back?” Joren asked quietly.

“No. The moral of the story is that arrogance will get you killed. I knew that the Lioness was a fierce fighter. She had done far too much and was capable of far too much for me to not know that. It was because of my ego that the thought that I needed help at all was rejected. See, I was a decent fighter. Top of my year-mates, actually. If I had called for assistance immediately, I probably could have avoided the injury, learnt that my comrade was already dead and saved face. I didn’t know the person on my left was dead. If I had called, I would have expected help from both sides. Arrogance is an ugly thing. It makes you think that you are better than you are without the actual capability to realize that you can be a good or even great fighter and still have things to learn or need help. Not even the Lioness would take on two spidren on her own,” Sir Paxton explained.

Joren was silent. A memory took hold of him over the next few miles. It was of the spidren hunt from his third year, Keladry’s first. She had fought off two of the spidren before help could arrive. Up until this point, a part of him had held onto the idea that even though he had seen first-hand her skill he thought she was lesser because she was female. Then, another thought took over the first. She was skilled enough to take on three heavily armed spidren with only a spear and a few other first-year pages with far less skill to aid her. She had called for help. She hadn’t let her ego get in the way. The fact that the girl at only 11-years-old could know, probably instinctively, to call for help if it was available when a knight didn’t was actually a bit startling to Joren.

Sir Paxton left Joren to his thoughts for most of the rest of the trip. Joren often thought of the last book the Baroness Rispah had given him. This thought was always quickly suppressed. He still wasn’t ready to contemplate such a thought and even if he had been willing to do so, he had left the book back in his rooms at the palace. 

In the end, once they reached Northwatch, he ended up being completely absorbed in the work that General Vanget haMinch assigned to them. To say that immersing himself in patrols of the border area was all encompassing would be a deception, but he often also found his time absorbed in the everyday life of the north. There were plenty of chores for a squire to do. Keeping Sir Paxton’s armor in proper shape was a battle since his knight-master seemed to always be actively involved in patrols and those patrols often resulted in his armor somehow becoming a mess, usually with either mud or blood and often with both. 

In addition to that, Joren frequently encountered Cleon of Kennan. After a rather awkward apology, and the assurance that he had apologized to Kel already and the apology had been accepted, Cleon and Joren had started to get to know each other on tentatively better terms. It wasn’t until Joren nearly lost it, at the suggestion of one of the soldiers present about Kel being a loose woman, that Cleon really warmed up to Joren though. Cleon had inquired as to the reasoning for the loss of temperament and Joren simply stated that Kel’s business was Kel’s business and that no one but her had a right to comment on it. 

Joren suspected the Cleon had feelings for Kel since he had to be held back a month later for a similar reason, only the rank of the person who had said it was much higher. A knight from a conservative family had been foolish enough to say it in front of not only Cleon and Joren but also Sir Inness and Sir Paxton. While Paxton and Joren held Cleon back from behaving stupidly, Kel’s own brother slapped the man.

To say the other knight came out a little worse for the wear from the ensuing challenge would have been an understatement. General Vanget had been livid, but the brunt of the punishment went on the offending knight since he really had gone too far, insulting a young lady in the presence of her elder brother. By this time, the weather had taken a decided turn for the cold. Sir Paxton ordered Joren to pack up because he refused to winter in the north when not even the Scanran would be foolish enough to raid. 

Unfortunately for Cleon, part of Sir Inness’s punishment for the duel was that they had to stay for the winter to help train the locals in combat. The other knight had gotten far worse with a reprimand from the Crown and essentially midden duties. Joren had built up a decent relationship with Cleon by this point and agreed to carry a letter back south for him.


	6. Autumn 455/ Winter 455/456

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joren confronts his feelings and has another encounter with the Trickster.

When Sir Paxton informed him that they would be wintering in the Royal Palace rather than the Nond family holding, Joren was elated. Joren knew that in part this was because Sir Paxton’s brother would be marrying in the capitol this year, the marriage to Kel’s older sister. As such, the whole of the Nond family would be in Corus rather than Fief Nond but Joren could also far more easily evade his Knight-Master’s family at the palace, where there were other duties and expectations of him, than at that family’s own castle. 

He had also offered to both Sir Inness and Cleon the endeavor of carrying their letters to Corus for their family members since he would be going there anyways. Sir Inness was surprised by the offer. However, as he knew that Joren had spent some time with Cleon and they seemed to get on well, he assumed Joren might be on reasonable terms with his youngest sister, having little knowledge of her previous years as a page other than the general of her doing well. Kel had never been one to complain about anything and Inness had seen so little of her that he had little reason to suspect that she didn’t get along with Joren. As a result, Joren found himself acting as courier for both Squire and Knight. Sir Inness had decided that Joren could well enough carry letters to his whole family to Kel and she could pass them on to the rest of the family since they would all be in Corus for Addie’s wedding.

For the first time, Joren found himself proud of something that he could actually claim was more than luck. Two others, both of whom had a previous, very valid, reason to hate him, had found him worthy of being trusted. He had truly earned their trust. It hadn’t been given as a matter of course because of his family name or rank, it had been earned. He also felt he might have a very real friend in Cleon. 

The other squire had been taking time to learn more about Joren rather than simply looked at his family’s wealth and fallen into line like Garvey and Vinson had. Zahir had been the only other person to do that. He actually had continued his friendship with Zahir, who, the last letter he had received from him, told him he was happy that his friend had grown up enough to realize that his prejudices shouldn’t define his behavior. Joren still hadn’t told his friend that he really wasn’t all that opposed to lady knights anymore. In fact, he felt that if any woman deserved to be one, it was Keladry of Mindelan. The Girl had faced far more adversaries in her time as a page than any boy had, and she had broken through a lot of underlying misconceptions about what noble women were capable of. 

It was one thing for a common born girl to join the Queen’s Riders or a noble woman to become one of the Queen’s Ladies, a group dedicated to following the Queen, even into combat. It was completely different for a young noble woman to go through the extensive and often dangerous training required to become a knight. Kel had gone above and beyond the expectations of everyone at court. Lord Wyldon had even shown a concealed amount of pride over the girl, even if it would kill him to admit it. 

This is how Joren spent much of the journey south, pondering Keladry of Mindelan without even realizing how frequently his thoughts focused more on her than on his own sense of accomplishment at being worthy of trust or many other things he had proven of himself over the past year. In fact, when they reached Corus, the first thought that ran through Joren’s mind wasn’t that he would be able to show Kel his level of ‘improvement of character’ as Sir Paxton called it, but rather that he would now have the perfect excuse to seek her out in private. 

He debated briefly about when he should deliver the package of letters while they rode through Corus but Joren eventually realized that due to inner city traffic, by the time they reached the palace, they would have just enough time to get their horses brushed down and fed before having to immediately cleaning up and going to the mess hall. This knowledge resulted in him deciding to give the letters to Kel after they had eaten. 

When he entered the mess hall, most of the pages and squires were already present and seated. He had two options when he got his food. He could sit with Vinson and Garvey, who had as it turned out, not really changed at all and Joren rejected that option out of hand. The other choice was to sit with Faleron of King’s Reach and Yancen of Irenroha. Zahir wasn’t coming back for the winter, his knight-master deciding to stay on the southern Tyra border.

Joren barely hesitated before sitting at the table with Faleron and Yancen along with a few of their friends. He put himself at the far end of the table but knew that the move was being noticed by more and more of the pages and squires as the mess hall slowly fell silent. Joren may as well have declared that he preferred his enemies to his former friends. Sure, he could have sat with some other group of squires but Joren had decided that if he wanted to make a point, it would have to be obvious. Besides, he at least knew these squires, the others were almost knights and had never had much to do with him.

In the end, by the time Lord Wyldon arrived and spoke the daily prayers, Joren found himself the focal point of the majority of the attention of the mess hall. Joren made an actual effort to completely ignore all the stares, knowing full well that people would have questions that he had no intention of answering. Instead, he opted for total silence during the meal. This earned him even more confused looks. In fact, if he had to guess, the only people to not pay any attention to his ‘odd behavior’ was the people who were friends with the squires he had chosen to sit with. Likewise, Faleron seemed equally indifferent to his presence. 

By the end of the meal, however, Joren was almost prepared to scream. Vinson had spent most of the meal talking rather loudly about what happens when the future head of a noble family loses all sense of morals. Lord Wyldon had instructed Vinson to be quiet twice and the third time ordered him to report to him after the meal. Garvey may not have joined in the vocalization over Joren’s apparent defection to the other side, but his glares spoke volumes and Garvey was liberal with them. 

Over the course of the meal, Joren thanked his lucky stars that at least Vinson’s and Garvey’s behavior probably advanced his cause with Kel and her friends. He was also grateful that his father had no wish to spend time in the capitol outside of the political season which normally occurred in the summer. He could only hope that his lack of retaliation would keep him from too much hostility but knew better than to expect much as he knew Vinson and Garvey far too well to assume for that to be the case.

When he finished his meal, Joren made a slight display of himself by holding his head high as he returned his tray and left the mess hall with an even pace. He knew the difference between pride and arrogance now and he knew that he had to show he was proud of his choice to distance himself in such an obvious manner. However, once he was out of the mess hall, it was all he could do to not flat out run back to his rooms. He forced himself to maintain a semblance of calm as he walked through the palace halls. 

Back in his rooms, he resolutely went about unpacking all his things. He sighed after he put the last of his small task away. He then collected the stack of letters for Keladry and prayed she was alone when he got to her rooms. His hopes were of course in vain. Queenscove and Jesslaw and Faleron were all there. To his surprise, none were as hostile as he would have expected them to be. They were more awkward than anything, if he had to put a label on the way they behaved. 

“I just came to deliver these. I offered to carry them for Cleon and Sir Inness since we were coming back to the palace and they weren’t,” Joren stated, handing over the letters and hoping to make a quick escape. He still felt extremely awkward around Kel and the looks from Queenscove in particular made him want to fidget.

Kel however didn’t allow this to occur, “That was nice, thank you.” Though her words were simple, Joren felt the full weight of the fact that it was probably the first time she had held no suspicion when talking to him. 

As a result, he froze briefly before finally responding, “No problem. It was only natural, after all. It wasn’t like we were going out of our way or anything.” Joren felt like a complete fool as he said it, knowing that it had a tone of arrogance that he didn’t want to present anymore.

Kel merely raised an eyebrow before shaking her head and finally letting him leave with a simple, “Still, it was kind, thank you.” 

Joren took this chance to escape but was still in ear’s reach when he heard Faleron speaking, “What was that about?” the only squire in the group asked.

“He claims he’s changed. As far as I have seen, he has too,” Kel replied simply.

“I suppose he could have changed,” Queenscove spoke sarcastically. “I myself have noticed my growing resemblance to a daffodil.”

After a round of chuckles, Joren chose to remain within range of hearing wanting to know how the conversation would go, “You do look a little yellow around the edges. I hadn’t wanted to bring it up.” Kel’s voice sounded serious which forced Joren to hold back his laughter, not wanting to be caught eavesdropping.

“We daffodils like to have things brought up. It reminds us of spring,” Queenscove’s voice was equally serious.

At this, both Kel and the boys in her room burst into laughter. After they calmed, Kel turned it back to seriousness though, “No, seriously though. Joren did do something really remarkable last spring. He and I both overheard… a maid being accosted by Vinson about a week before Vinson left. You remember the marks on his face. Well, the maid had fought, but neither of us saw who she was. I managed to rescue her, and she fled. Joren was up in his rooms and overheard the incident. Well, because I had no proof without the maid, I went to Vinson’s rooms and told him that if I even so much as heard of it happening again, I would report him to the Temple of the Goddess. 

“Anyways, Joren pulled me into his room after overhearing the conversation and offered to report it to Lord Wyldon since it would be far more credible coming from him as Vinson’s friend. He really did too. That is why Lord Wyldon and Sir Nualt have been watching Vinson like a hawk. They couldn’t do anything about it because there wasn’t any proof, but they still believed him and are keeping Vinson under a close eye,” When Kel finished, the others were completely silent and Joren decided it was time for him to leave. 

He had to control himself and not run back to his rooms but when he reached them, for the first time he truly allowed himself to examine his feelings for Kel. He had to admit to himself that his feelings were more than a fleeting infatuation. He was going to have to be honest with himself. He had no other choice at this point and over the past few years he had become more and more focused on her. 

Once the prejudices from his childhood were torn away after his encounter with the Trickster, his obsession held no hostility towards her. If anything, it would be best described as admiration of her strength of will to go through so much adversity to reach her goals. He and others had made it extremely difficult for her, but she seemed to almost excel under pressure. 

Joren also thought about the beauty that she displayed in her actions. Her horse was a true menace to any other person and yet, seemed to adore her. She had never taken the easy route. Besides, pretty much everyone knew that the dog, Jump, he had heard it called, was pretty much hers. He figured she must have rescued it at some point. Just as she had gone about rescuing other pages from him, Vinson, and Garvey during her first two years as a page.

She was also rather nice to look at when in she wore dresses to dinner. Joren’s mind froze there. He thought she was pretty. Well, not pretty in the common sense but attractive. He started to pace as he analyzed this thought and then asked himself how long he had thought of her as attractive. He was unsettled to realize that even when he had first seen her, she had held a certain draw to her. The stubbornly blank expression holding a true strength he had never learnt. He eventually pushed that thought away. 

He briefly debated avoiding her but dismissed the idea realizing that if months away hadn’t done away with his feelings it wasn’t likely that they would vanish with avoidance. He likewise couldn’t just go and confront her with them. She was only thirteen and he was barely on the cusp of turning sixteen. Neither of them was prepared for a real relationship. In fact, they wouldn’t really be able to face any of the responsibilities of such a relationship until they had both obtained their knighthoods anyway.

Joren hadn’t failed to notice that he had skipped over the fact that relationships take time to build and went straight to what was expected of a fully formed relationship to produce. This thought brought on another moment of panic. If he ever wanted his feelings to reciprocated, he would have to earn her heart in return. Just as he was about to fall into a panic attack, he heard a chuckle in the room.

Joren nearly jumped out of his skin at the noise. In part, because he might have recognized the voice, but also in part because he really wasn’t expecting the god to return. He turned to face Kyprioth reluctantly. The god was sitting on his window seat, rather casually, much to Joren’s annoyance. The god seemed to be genuinely amused by Joren’s unsettled state. Joren glared at the smirking god.

“It took you long enough. I must admit though, watching my sister and brother stare in confusion as you did a complete turnabout in your manners to their little pet was a source of no small amount of hilarity. I am shocked that it truly took this long for you to figure out your feelings though. After all, it has been a full year since we last talked, and I did leave a pretty large hint with that book. Though, you really haven’t done your assigned reading, have you?” Kyprioth seemed to be getting no end of amusement from Joren’s predicament. 

“Why are you even here? I’m not exactly your follower anymore. I haven’t pulled any pranks or caused mischief, right? Why are you still interested in me?” Joren decided to completely ignore the God having no respect for his emotional privacy.

“Oh, but you have. You may not have thought of it as such, but you have. That little sleight of hand with your former friend last spring, you used deception. Not in a bad way mind, just caused a bit of mischief for someone who is not worthy of your friendship. It’s still mischief though and you always have the potential for more,” Kyprioth seemed to be enjoying Joren’s discomfort far more than he should. “You really should read that last book though. It is truly enlightening and was written by one of the last Lady Knights around, you know, Lady Sabine of Macayhill was her name,” With this, the god vanished and Joren glared at the spot where he had been.

“I really don’t get why he keeps coming around,” Joren said to himself as he moved to where he had hidden the mentioned book. 

“Because you amuse me and are a convenient distraction,” Kyprioth’s voice wove around Joren causing him to look around for the god before realizing the god was just tormenting him now. This earned him a chuckle before the god’s presence faded completely.

Joren sighed and wondered why he put up with the Trickster only to remember the rather dire warning that the god in question had given him. A little bit of perspective went a long way in encouraging him to realize how close he had come to falling into the pitfalls of his arrogance. Vinson was now a prime example of exactly the person he never wanted to be again. He had turned his back on that path but still had a clear view of where it led before him. 

Joren had no doubt that even if he hadn’t had his eyes opened, he would still have been obsessed with Kel. There was a very real possibility of him following a similar route as Vinson had he lacked the respect for Kel that he felt for her now. He briefly wondered if Vinson would still be an issue but shrugged it off. For now, it seemed that Vinson was setting his sights on Joren, who was fairly isolated in terms of friends, over Kel who had them in great supply.

With this, he opened the book and looked for the advice on gift giving. If he wanted to present himself well, he would want to give Kel something that she would actually like. After a full two hours of reading the intricacies of what to avoid when giving a gift, he threw the book at the wall in frustration. It almost constantly contradicted itself, and that was simply on the topic of giving a present. He then had a thought. There was no reason that he couldn’t give the present anonymously. After all, she couldn’t get angry with him for offending her if she didn’t know it was him. With this thought in mind he went to sleep. 

Joren quickly found himself caught up in the lessons provided to him by Sir Paxton however and didn’t find much time for gift shopping. He contented himself with furtive glances at Kel while she wasn’t looking. He realized fairly quickly that he was horrible at concealing his interest but hoped that by watching her, he would get some semblance of an idea of what to get her a gift of. Eventually, it was two weeks before Midwinter, and he decided he would just go to the markets and pick something that spoke to him as being her. He requested the day off for shopping, which Paxton readily granted, knowing that Joren hadn’t asked for any free time of late. 

Joren decided to first pick out presents for his parents, since they would be simpler, and he wouldn’t have to do it later when he got frustrated. For his mother, he got a pair of emerald earbobs matched with a delicate necklace and bracelet. All three were set in intricately woven silver and he knew that his mother would love flaunting them at the coming Congress as green was her favorite color. Thus, they would match many of her gowns. 

His father was a little bit more complicated, however he eventually found ornate copies of the Book of Gold and Book of Silver noble houses. He chuckled knowing that his father had often envied Lord Genlith his copy of the Book of Gold and as such would be pleased since this was both books and as such a complete set. It was also a far more ornate version, even if Lord Genlith’s was older. 

He also got small little trinkets for his siblings. His sisters got ribbons and his younger brother got some toy soldiers. They were simple gifts, but things they would like none the less.

For Sir Paxton, he bought the man a pair of fine riding gloves. Sir Paxton had never been one for the ostentatious like his parents had been and thus would be happier with something that was genuinely useful rather than based on what it was worth. Once he had arranged for the different gifts to be sent to the palace, Joren could finally focus on his true objective. 

He had spent only a few hours on the other presents and as such, had ample time to search through the stalls for his gift for Kel. He also decided to buy presents for Faleron and Yancen who he had been training with under the watchful eye of their knight-masters. The three had begun to get along quite well and Joren felt it wouldn’t be too presumptuous to get them some small gift. As he suspected, it was far easier to find things for them than it was for Kel. By mid-afternoon, Joren had gotten a small belt knife for Faleron and a new pair of archery gloves for Yancen as he had recalled both mentioning that they would soon need these things, both gifts came from the Raven Armory. 

Kel’s gift, however, still eluded him. First, he went to a few jewelry shops, hoping to find some little trinket that suited her but to no avail. He was briefly tempted to buy her some ruby earbobs as he had noticed she seemed to favor darker shades of red but at the same time he knew that she didn’t wear earbobs. He wandered through some accessory stores and debated over some ribbons that he knew she would never wear and then a rather ladylike fan that she would never use. 

It wasn’t until he was about to give up that he noticed a small Yamani shop that he had missed while passing between stores earlier. Recalling that she had spent several years in the Islands, Joren decided to go in and hope that he found something that would suit her. A few minutes browsing, he was almost ready to despair when something shiny caught his eye. A set of hair sticks were in a case, what was peculiar about them though was that the sticks themselves seemed to be oddly thick. 

When he inquired about it, the shop keeper smiled, “They are Kanzashi hair ornaments. The reason they are so thick is because there are inner and outer sticks. The inner are blades intended for defensive purposes and the outer are sheaths of sorts.” The shop keeper pulled out the set and twisted the ornament on top to release the small sharp blade from the sheath. Joren couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. It was perfect, at least the sentiment was. It was the perfect balance between her feminine side and her warrior side. 

“Would someone who spent several years in the Yamani Isles know what these are and how to use them,” Joren asked delicately.

“They would only be able to tell if they could actually see the sticks, which is unlikely as they are typically hidden within the hair. Even then, it would only be a guess as no two sets are identical,” the shop keeper responded honestly. Joren noticed that the ornaments were set with garnets which would go well with her preference for darker reds.

In the end, Joren bought them. Unlike the other packages, which were to be sent back to the palace and would arrive within a day if they weren’t already there by the time he got back, this present he carried on him. He felt a great deal of relief when he finally reached his rooms. He knew that Kel had no way of knowing his handwriting and thus he was safe to write a little note if he was careful of how he wrote it. He had also gotten her and her friends sweets as a sort of peace offering and wrote a more general note that he was careful to ensure didn’t look like the same handwriting as his special gift to her.

When Midwinter started, his manservant brought all the gifts to the head of the servants in the Page and Squire wings, Selma. The man had no knowledge of whom the gifts were for, only that there were far more than usual. The presents to his parents and siblings had already been shipped off to Stone Mountain in hopes that they would arrive by then. 

When the presents were distributed, he was surprised to find that besides from his parents, who had both gotten him useless trinkets, Faleron, Yancen, and Kel had sent him gifts. Faleron had gotten him an armor cleaning kit, Joren suspected in part it was a joke due to a previous conversation about his trip north that summer but appreciated it none the less. Yancen had given him a book on Yamani etiquette as Joren had admitted to never really paying attention in those classes. It was another jest no doubt, but again, well meant. Kel had sent just sweets but the fact that she had sent anything at all made his heart soar a little.

After Midwinter, as the cold settled in, Joren found that he enjoyed the time he spent with both Yancen and Faleron. More so, perhaps, than he ever had with Garvey and Vinson. The lack of constant negativity that had so plagued his previous friendships made these easier to have. At the same time, he found he was far more honest with Faleron and Yancen than he had been with Garvey or Vinson. He felt no need to establish a superiority over them since the others really didn’t care about how long their families had been noble. Nor did he have to conceal his feelings as they were much more liberal minded.

Much to his surprise, Joren’s father seemed to pay little mind to who Joren choose to be friends with. Furthermore, his mother seemed pleased by the change in his friends as ‘the Lady Genlith is far too arrogant for a noble house that is near destitute and Lady Runnerspring is completely vulgar. Ladies King’s Reach and Irenroha were far more tolerable.’ His mother’s choice of friends based on his own made him a little uncomfortable, but he assumed it had to do with his father’s slowly declining health. He had three siblings, of which, two were twin sisters, both younger than him, being fourteen and would be leaving the convent for court the year after next. His brother was a toddler of only three. Joren knew that he would be lucky if his father lived to see him reach his own knighthood. Oliver, Cassie, and Margery would likely become dependent on him until they were of an age to be considered adults, Cassie and Margery relying on him until they married. 

Joren jolted out of his reverie once more as a knock sounded on the door. It was Sunday night and that meant the battle lessons in the mess hall with Lord Wyldon. Joren had come to both love and hate these. He loved them because they allowed him to get close to Kel without being weird about it. He had noticed that her friends would sometimes frown but for the most part seemed to leave be. He hated them because it still didn’t afford him an opportunity to really talk to her.

The rest of winter passed thusly. When March came, and Sir Inness and Cleon returned to the palace, Joren was happy because it meant another friend. A friend that Cleon truly proved to be as well. Both Owen and Neal had warmed up to him a little after the conversation that he had overheard but both Seaver and Merric were cold to him until Cleon showed up and treated Joren as a friend openly.


	7. Spring 456

“Lalasa, stop fussing!” Kel’s order was heard through the door that Joren was about to knock on. “If it fits any more perfectly, I won’t be able to take it off!”

The second comment caught Joren off guard with his hand raised to knock on the door. A blush creeped up on his face at the thought of Kel taking anything off.

“I just want you to look your best, my lady,” Lalasa retorted with a serious tone. “Though there is little I can do with this cursed gold and red. I don’t think anyone really looks good in it.”

“Well, I’ll look better than anybody else, that’s for certain,” Kel stated. She then promptly squeaked which made Joren wonder what was going on in the room. 

He finally knocked on the door and got a request to wait a moment. Through the door, Joren could hear the maid but she had apparently lowered her voice when she realized someone was at the door. When Lalasa finally opened the door, Kel was in a shirt and breeches and was moving to open the shutters.

“Just came to wish you luck for tomorrow, I can leave if you are busy,” Joren said quickly.

“It’s fine. We were finished,” Kel looked out the window as she spoke and frowned. “One second. You wait here.”

Joren then noticed the two commoner men in the courtyard of the wing. Kel seemed confused by their presence as well, “Are you lost?” She asked.

One of them, a burly man snatched off his hat and after a second, his companion did the same.

“Saving your presence, your lordship, but we was supposed t’meet our boss in the entry hall. Witless here got us turned about,” The big man elbowed his companion as he finished.

“I was sure it was this way,” The smaller of the two whined. He also made a look at Lalasa that made Joren stiffen a little when she moved next to Kel, so he joined them. “Miss. Your lordship, sir.”

Joren had to restrain a laugh when Jump leaping out the window and trotting towards them caused them to back away from the small dog.

“It’s all right. He’s just not used to strangers,” Kel swung out the window and dropped into the courtyard. Joren had to hold in more laughter as her sparrows seemed to start calling out to her in chirps. “I’ll show you the way to the entry hall. It’s easy to get lost here. Joren, I will be back shortly. Jump, stay with Lalasa.”

With that, Kel led the two men away. Joren waited until she returned which was a short while and then they walked to the mess hall as it was time for supper. After supper, Kel invited Joren to join her and her friends in the royal menagerie to help distract the fourth-year pages from the Big Exams the next day. Joren had jokingly pointed out that since he and Cleon made it through, it would be ease for Kel, who excelled in her lessons to pass. As it so happened, Diane and a few of the other teachers were visiting the menagerie as well which meant that the marmosets, tiny monkeys, were roaming about and Joren found he enjoyed the way Kel laughed while one of them hid behind her hair. The smile lite up her face in ways that made his stomach flutter.

It was extremely late when they went back to their respective rooms, the pages claiming they wouldn’t sleep for fear of the exams. Joren knew that he would sleep but that his dreams wouldn’t allow him to get much rest since his mind was completely occupied by Kel’s laugh. The next morning, he ended up sleeping a little late and had to rush to eat before the exams. Kel and her fellow fourth year pages were leaving just as he entered. 

After he had eaten, Joren changed quickly and went to where the exams were to be held. He joined Faleron, Cleon and Roald. They all frowned when they noticed Merric, Esmond and Seaver arrive without Neal or Kel. Joren’s gut told him something was wrong. He told the others he would find out what was going on and headed directly to Kel’s room at a steady run. He arrived just as an older, much confused servant was leaving, as was Neal.

He didn’t bother stopping Neal, who was rushing to make it to the assembly room before Lord Wyldon. Instead, he knocked on the door to Kel’s room. She only cracked the door a little before opening it all the way and letting him in before closing it again and went about putting on a brace of wrist knives. Joren paled at the sight of her arming herself.

“What’s going on Kel?” He had to control his voice. Kel didn’t respond, she instead handed him the note she must have gotten earlier and so he read it as she locked her lower shutters. “Lalasa?” 

“Yes, you probably understand better than most why they would do this,” Kel responded.

“I…” Joren had been about to say he would have never stooped so low as to break the law, but he knew what kind of person he had been once. “Let me help. Two people will cover more ground than one and I don’t need to be anywhere.”

Kel looked at him in surprise but nodded her agreement. She opened the door and found Lalasa’s friend, Joren didn’t know her name. She tried to reassure the maid and then suggested that she work on the Queen’s dress if she didn’t have other duties. The maid seemed embarrassingly grateful but Joren didn’t comment on it. 

Once they were clear of the page’s wing Joren offered to check the area of unused sheds that Lord Wyldon had started to use for the training for city fighting. He broke off, leaving her to search the armories, storerooms, and catacombs. They agreed to send someone to find the other if one of them found Lalasa. Joren told her he would check the stables, storage barns and Garrets after the sheds. 

Joren did exactly what he promised too. When he had exhausted all those options, he headed back to Kel’s room, completely defeated. As he approached the page’s wing, the maid from before hurried down the hall. He caught her and with little persuasion convinced her to explain her rush. She showed him a note that simply read ‘Try Balor’s Needle’. His heart dropped to his stomach and he turned and sprinted in the direction of the aforementioned tower.

He reached the courtyard just as Kel and Lalasa reached to ground. Kel looked more than a little battered and Lalasa had collapsed to the ground. Joren put one last burst of speed in and caught Kel just before she joined her maid on the ground. The other maid was just behind Joren, much to his surprise that she could keep up, and was crying out about them being alright.

“How did you know we were here?” Kel asked, unwrapping the sack-sling around Jump.

Tian, Joren’s mind finally supplied the maid’s name, fumbled and pulled out the note she had handed to Joren. She must have picked it up after he had bolted for the tower.

“Someone stuck it to the door,” Tian said. “Gower saw it when he was leaving. My lady… he went to fetch the watch.”

Kel nodded slowly and glanced towards the tower again, “I’m going to tell the king about that. It’s not safe.” She said wiping her hands on her tunic. Joren couldn’t help bursting into laughter at the comment. The fact that it was slightly hysterical wasn’t commented on by any of the others.

Diane arrived shortly after and healed Jump and cooing sweet nothings to the dog about his bravery in the process. More people arrived during the healing. Gower, Joren learnt, was Lalasa’s uncle and he helped Tian tend Lalasa as Joren and Lalasa both answered questions from members of the watch. Eventually, Joren helped Kel to her feet and helped her walk as they were taken to the watch’s offices. Though, his first impulse had been to carry her, he suspected Kel wouldn’t appreciate the gesture. Joren didn’t pay too much attention to the questioning that Kel endured while they healed her leg. He briefly thought that it should have been Duke Baird healing the leg.

Just as this thought ran through his brain, Jump leapt off her chest, waking Kel and Lalasa started shrieking, “That’s them! That’s the ones that grabbed me!”

“Get this dog!” Cried the smaller of the two chained men flanked by watchmen.

A sergeant pulled Jump off and Joren realized these were the same men that he had seen the day before. They were the ones that Kel had escorted to the entry hall.

The sergeant spoke to Jump for a second before looking at the two captives, “SO, here’s another dog what hates you. Whatever did you dungballs get up to, that so many dogs want to rip you to bits?”

“Why are those men here?” Kel asked sleepily. Joren had to harden his resolve to stop from melting on the spot. He focused on the men to distract himself from the adorable sight of a groggy Kel.

“Well, milady, we found them a bell ago, cornered by a pack of palace dogs. Since they couldn’t give no good reason for being here, and they were all chewed up, we thought we’d hold ‘em awhile,” the sergeant replied.

Kel nodded and laid back down, Joren’s resolve melted a little at the sight of her so drowsy. Joren decided to sit sentry over her while answering whatever questions asked of him. His heart wasn’t willing to allow him any less. Eventually, an older, rather stately looking woman came in and demanded to know why she needed to search the palace for her child and why she was there rather in her rooms. A watchman explained the need for questions and getting the full story. Ilane of Mindelan told them they could get any further questions they needed the next day.

When Kel’s mother asked for assistance with getting Kel back to her rooms, Joren jumped at the chance to escape and helped Kel hobble through the palace to her rooms. Joren also found himself immediately kicked out of said rooms. It was only a matter of seconds before he found himself surrounded by Kel’s friends and forced to answer more questions.

When supper came around, Joren was practically dragged to the mess hall by Yancen and Zahir, who had apparently arrived earlier that day. Vinson and Garvey both sneered as he walked past them and sat with his real friends. Faleron, Roald and Cleon joined them a short while later. 

Kel came in last, walking in with Lord Wyldon and gathering her tray of food. When she passed the squires, Garvey jeered, “I bet she hired those men to get of out the exams!”

“I knew she would crumble at the last moment,” Vinson added. “Females always do.”

Joren was about to say something when Cleon and Faleron both kicked his shin and shook their heads, “Who could be afraid of the big exams? After all, you two passed them.” Kel spoke coldly as she passed the two squires. Those at the table with Joren had varying success on suppressing their laughter. Joren didn’t bother to attempt it at all. 

“When do you leave?” Vinson asked coolly, as if he hadn’t just been insulted.

“I won’t” the steel in Kel’s voice was clear and Joren felt a surge of pride for her.

“You expect us to believe you mean to do all four years again?” Vinson was openly mocking Kel and it was only Faleron and Zahir holding Cleon and Joren back that kept them from attacking him.

Kel shrugged casually, “Believe what you like.” She then walked away from them.

Cleon touched her wrist causing Kel to pause at their table, “I’m alright.” She spoke only loud enough for them to hear.

“Of course, you are. You’re the best,” Joren stated with a smirk on his face.

When Kel joined her friends among the pages she was hugged by Neal and Owen. They spoke for a few moments before Lord Wyldon came to the lectern and everyone scrabbled to stand.

“Mithros and Goddess, we pray to you, grant your blessing. Strip the veils of hate from our eyes and grip the bitterness from our hearts. Teach us to be pure in our souls, dedicated only to service, duty and honor,” Wyldon’s clear and sharp voice cut through any remaining whispers and those present bowed their heads in prayer. When he finished there was a murmur of ‘So Mote it be’ running through the room.

After this, the pages and squires started eating, the amount of chatter only slightly louder than normal. Halfway through the meal, a servant opened the door. In walked Duke Turomot of Wellam, the Lord Magistrate and chief examiner of pages. 

Everyone stood as the old man walked slowly to Lord Wyldon’s dais. The training master stood and bowed to him. For a moment there was a whispered conversation between the two. Lord Wyldon than helped Duke Turomot to the lectern.

“Silence. Evidence had been given, confession made. Two men were paid by an as-yet-unknown third man for Page Keladry of Mindelan either to be late for the fourth-year exams or to be unable to attend them at altogether. Said coercion being out of the control of either Page Keladry or Lord Wyldon, her training master, it is hereby ordained that in two days’ time Keladry of Mindelan shall present herself in the First Court of Law of the palace in Corus at the second bell of the morning. There and in the practice courts she will be given the appropriate fourth-year tests by the regular examiners,” The old man’s glare brooked for no argument to be made. 

More than a few voices still cried out in astonishment. Joren looked to Kel and noticed that she fought for control and her face was quickly completely blank. Duke Turomot pounded on the lectern and shouted, “Order! Order!”

Joren wondered if that was how he sounded in court as the pages slowly calmed down. “There was no reason for this unseemly display. If any such occurs on testing day, I will have those responsible ejected from my presence,” His glare sharped on all of them. “Heralds have been sent to announce the new day of testing. Furthermore, the one who perpetrated this defilement of the law and the examinations will be found and duly punished. With the guidance of Mithros, we will achieve a fair solution.”

The pages and squires picked up on his hint and replied, “So mote it be.”

The duke left and Lord Wyldon took his place at the lectern, “Provided the Keladry of Mindelan passes her fourth-year examinations in two days, we will hold the celebration for the new squires on that evening. Page Keladry, report to me when you have finished your meal.”

Cleon, Roald, Faleron and Joren all spent more time discussing why such a decision had been made. Joren secretly was relieved. He wanted to respect Kel’s quest for knighthood, but he also wanted to pursue his feelings for her and the two would have been a lot harder to reconcile if she had to repeat all four years as a page. He also noticed the absolute look of rage on Vinson and his suspicions on the matter were essentially confirmed. 

Joren voiced his thoughts to Sir Paxton the evening after Kel passed her exams but Sir Paxton pointed out that they had no proof, only Joren’s gut feeling and the fact that Vinson was clearly without scruples. Then Sir Paxton said something that surprised Joren, “It isn’t as if he will really pass his Ordeal, the way the boy is. In all honesty, it will be a miracle if he even survives it.”

“What do you mean?” Joren frowned, thinking back on the vision he had seen in the fire over a year ago.

“The Chamber finds the flaws and weaknesses of a squire and hammers them out. That is the best way to describe it. Most people come out alive because they have a certain level of flexibility. Without that flexibility you don’t survive. Some go insane, some simply don’t make it out at all. I think Vinson may be one that doesn’t make it out at all. If you are right, he broke the law and that will severely impact his chances. That is all I am going to say on it though,” Paxton dismissed a very unsettled Joren after that.

When he went back to his rooms a thought occurred to him. He had hesitated to deny ever having been capable of having Kel’s maid kidnapped to hurt her. The matter of the fact was that before Kyprioth had shown him that vision, he very well was of a mindset where it was possible. Especially given his level of obsession with Kel. He also realized that the spring before, Vinson had tried to get him involved in a revenge plot against Kel. It made him shiver on his bed to think of the horror he may have been willing to commit against someone he now realized he… his thoughts paused and refused to go further. 

They instead turned back to that vision. If he hadn’t changed, if Vinson had had an ally or even without Vinson’s aid, he might have gone with the same method to get rid of Kel. A knight was supposed to uphold the law, not break it, and harm those that should be under their protection. Sir Paxton was right, he realized. If the Chamber of Ordeal tested for worthiness of knighthood, there was no way that Vinson would pass it. He had assaulted an innocent already. If he had hired someone to actually kidnap that same someone that was just compounding the horrible nature that made up Vinson of Genlith. Joren could only hope that one of Vinson’s younger brothers were capable of taking up the responsibilities of the family when he didn’t survive. He didn’t even realize that he had already accepted the other’s death as a forgone conclusion.


	8. Summer 456

As summer started, Joren was surprised that it was his Uncle, Sir Lionel of Stone Mountain, who had arrived for congress rather than his father. His uncle merely explained that the healers recommended against his father traveling at this time. Joren blanched at the thought of his father’s health failing so rapidly.

“I still don’t understand it fully. Before you became a squire, it was like he had the health of a man ten years his junior. It started off that winter after you became a squire. He was a little erratic, a little distracted but otherwise fine. Then he started getting sick. I suspect it was a mistress he took having some sickness or another. He has never made the wisest of decisions on who shares his bed,” Sir Lionel looked knowingly at Joren.

Joren nodded his head slowly. His father had always had a penchant for bedding any pretty little thing in a skirt. His youngest sibling, Oliver, wasn’t even his mother’s son, not that he or any member of the family would admit it. As the mother of Oliver was one of the nurses for his sisters, his mother had decided that it would be kept quiet until the gender was known. Lady Verene of Stone Mountain had sworn the servants, who were all loyal to her, to secrecy on the matter. 

When the healer declared that the nursemaid would have a boy, Joren’s mother had informed the close family members she would claim the child for her own. She had even gone to the extent of informing her friends and family of her good fortune to have a child so late in her life via letter, as she was in her late thirties at the time. The nursemaid gave birth to a very healthy Oliver who bore a keen resemblance to the Lord of Stone Mountain and was allowed to be the wet nurse and nurse maid for the babe. That Lady Verene had claimed the child seemed to little matter to the nursemaid in question. Her child would have a life better than she could ever hope to provide him with.

Lord Burchard had long drifted to another mistress by then and Lady Verene did make one point of interference on the matter. Lord Burchard was ordered to provide any future flings with proper anti-pregnancy charms. It was hard enough to sell her having given birth to Oliver. There would be no others. 

Joren’s uncle wasn’t wrong in his assumption that his father could have gotten some unknown sickness that depleted his strength from an ill-chosen liaison. Joren sighed, “So, you will be representing us in congress?”

“In a way. At this point, your father’s say isn’t what matters. You need to attend the sessions as well. It is necessary that you learn the responsibilities of a Lord,” Sir Lionel was serious as he looked at Joren with a frown.   
Joren sighed, “Have you spoken to Sir Paxton?”  
“He will also be attending the congress in place of Lord Markith, so it won’t be a problem,” Joren’s uncle responded logically. “Apparently, Lord Markith is of a similar opinion. Sir Paxton’s father is rather aged now.”  
Joren accepted this and thus spent a good portion of the next few weeks under the strict tutelage of his Uncle and knight-master. In his free time, he found himself being drawn into Kel’s group of friends with increasing regularity. Apparently, his efforts to aid Kel in her search for her maid had been the needed catalyst for earning their trust fully. Joren found himself invited to study with the entire group or to spar with the other squires on a regular basis. 

He also found himself privy to one of the oddest secrets held by the group. Kel had a mysterious benefactor. Said benefactor’s most recent gift was to buy Peachblossom for the girl and pay for the horse’s care throughout her tenure as a squire. 

One summer day Joren found himself blessedly released from a congress meeting early. He was quickly coming to hate the process of politics. He also wasn’t sure what angered him more. The fact that there was a total of three females even permitted to participate in the process despite the overwhelming number of noble women who were probably more fit to run their fiefs, and often did, than their idiotic husbands, or the fact that those women were completely ignored. His own mother was one such lady, but it fell to him and his Uncle only because they were men. 

The three women were the Lady of Kennan, who was Cleon’s mother and governed for Cleon since Cleon wasn’t of age and had no near male relatives, the Lioness who was of course the heir of Barony Olau and the king’s champion, and Lady Maura of Dunlath who was the sole heir after her sister’s death to the fief Dunlath and a distant cousin to King Jonathan. The fact was that there was a consistent disregard from conservatives for anything those women said made Joren want to rage. Only Lady Alanna had any real respect from some of the men and that was mostly from fear and the knowledge that she was simply too powerful to disrespect.

Joren found it a bit odd that Lady Maura had a knight-guardian named Sir Douglass of Veldine as a guardian, but he let her make the decisions, despite her clear and apparent youth. As he walked through the halls, he wanted to scream. Lady Maura shouldn’t even be just a Lady. She was the only surviving child of a Duke. By all rights, she should be a Duchess. She was intelligent too, but because she was young and female it didn’t matter to most of the men present. Joren found that in his wandering rage he had arrived at Kel’s door. 

He was about to knock on her door when it opened. Kel was dressed in breeches and a light shirt, much like his own. He froze in confusion, uncertain what to do.

“Oh, perfect. If Neal doesn’t want to spar, do you? If you’re free that is? I know that you are busy with the whole congress thing,” Kel looked at him with hope.

Joren immediately broke into a smile and dropped his arm back to his side, “I was just going to ask you that. Let’s see if we can get Queenscove to unbury himself from the books.” Joren and she quickly moved over to Neal’s room. 

Kel knocked and opened the door when there was a call to enter, “Neal, Joren and I are off to the practice courts. Do you want to come?”

Neal lowered his book, and raised an eyebrow, “I’m about to commence four years of obeying the call of a bruiser on a horse. I refuse to put down what might be the last book I see for months.” His voice made it quite clear his opinion on the idea of leaving his reading.

Kel eyed Neal with a look that made Joren feel a spark of jealousy. He spoke to distract from the issue, “I thought you wanted to be a squire, Queenscove.” 

Neal sighed, “I want to fulfill Queenscove’s duty to the crown. A knight from our house…” Neal didn’t get to finish his sentence.

“…Has served the Crown for ages, is a pillar of the kingdom, I know. I know,” Kel finished for him causing another flare of jealousy in Joren.

“Well, that’s about being a knight. Squire is an intermediate step. It’s a pain in the rump, but it’s a passing pain. I don’t have to like it,” Neal groused. “I’d as soon read. Besides, father said to wait. Another knight is supposed to show up today. I hate it when father gets mysterious.”

“Well, we’re going to hit something,” Kel responded. “I can’t sit around.”

Neal sat up, “Still no one?” He asked, his kindness in voice and eyes. For all that he was much older, he was still a good friend to Kel. Not even Joren would deny that.

Kel shook her head, “I thought if I survived the big examinations, I’d be fine. I thought somebody would take me, even if I am The Girl.” She didn’t mention what both boys knew she really wanted. That at the heart of it, she wanted the Lioness to be her knight-mistress.

“There are still knights in the field. You may get a knight-master later this summer or in the fall. Not everyone gets one immediately. Those who do are usually cases of relatives or close family connections. Or, in my case, a knight wanting to save me from my own destructive path,” Joren pointed out, making a joke of his less-than-scrupulous past. 

Kel smiled a little at that before turning to Neal, “I know. Until then, I mean to practice. Last chance to collect bruises from me.”

Neal shuddered, much to Joren’s amusement, “Thanks, but I’ve gotten all the bruises off you this year that I want. Be careful, Stone Mountain, she will batter you.”

“Coward,” Kel responded before whistling for Jump. The dog leapt off the bed to join Joren and Kel as they made their way to the practice courts. 

They were deserted. Wyldon had taken the pages to their summer camp earlier that week. This was to beat the traffic as congress broke up. Only servants were near the fenced yards. There should be other squires keeping up practice, Joren thought but didn’t vocalize. 

The two spent a half hour sparing lightly with practice swords before saddling their horses. Peachblossom still eyes Joren with contempt but accepted the necessary evil of him and his horse’s presence. They took their practice lances to the tilting yard. Joren positioned himself in front of the quintain dummy with a black dot on its shield’s center. Kel opted to set up a ring target which Joren wasn’t willing to use due to the level of difficulty and the wind. He was content slamming into a solid, stationary object. 

After a few passes, he noticed a rather large man leaning against a fence. It took Joren a second to recognize Lord Raoul of Goldenlake and Malorie’s Peak. The man in question was paying no mind to Joren, instead watching Kel intently. As Kel speared her lance through the ring, Joren shook his head. She was skilled to a degree that made him think she lived for weapons practice, which was probably true. She further showed off by making a controlled flick of her lance and sent the ring flying, for Jump to chase after and retrieve. Lord Raoul started clapping, this signaled to Joren that his method of venting his frustration was going to be cut short. 

He turned his mount to follow Kel who had turned Peachblossom and led the horse to the Knight Commander of the King’s Own. Lord Raoul nodded to Joren before looking to Kel, “I had heard how well you two work together. I’m not sure I could have nailed that target.”

Kel blushed lightly at the comment as Jump brought the ring to the knight to throw. Raoul looked surprised at the weight of it and whistled, “Willow? I don’t think I could nail it, the ring I use is oak.”

Kel’s modesty took hold, “We practice a great deal, that’s all, my lord. Jump wants you to throw it for him.”

With a flick of the wrist, the knight sent the ring sailing down the road. Jump chasing after it until he could jump and catch it, bringing it back.

“Practice is the difference between winning and being worm food,” Raoul told Kel but glanced at Joren briefly as well. “Do you have a moment? I need to discuss something with you.”

Kel briefly looked at Joren who waved her off and led his horse back towards the stables to give them some privacy. He could easily venture a guess as to the reason the that a knight like Lord Raoul would want to talk to a newly made squire of Kel’s caliber. He smiled for his friend even though he knew that her being that particular knight’s squire would mean she would seldom be at the palace, but then neither would he. Congress ended in another week and then he and Sir Paxton were headed for the hill country for the rest of the summer and fall.

Both of them were looking forward to the idea of hunting bandits to make the roads safer after listening for long hours to the bickering of conservatives trying to tell them how they should think based on how old their families were or how their fathers thought. Joren could almost laugh at the irony. He was accorded a lot more respect as an underage heir than the distant cousin of the King, who was in truth older than him and almost of age, simply because of his gender. It also angered him, so he let his mind drift to more pleasant topics. 

He had long known that Cleon had feelings for Kel, it was written all over the other squire’s behavior towards her. However, he had gleaned an interesting bit of information from the mother of the young Baron, and Baron he was, even if he hadn’t achieved his knighthood yet. The dowager Baroness of Kennan had accidently let slip that Cleon was betrothed to Lady Ermelian of Aminar, the daughter of a friend of hers. He knew that theoretically Cleon could possibly get out of the engagement but not without making a mess of it and certainly not with any level of ease.

He knew he shouldn’t feel a level of glee over the matter, Cleon was his friend after all, but the other squire really had no business falling in love with Kel when he couldn’t pursue an honorable outcome without bringing a level of discomfort to all involved. The betrothal had been arranged when Cleon became a page after all, and it wasn’t like such a long-standing thing could be tossed aside. Joren could happily declare that he had no such obligations to any lady. His father had long considered such matters ‘the realm of women’ and his mother wouldn’t hear of even the thought of a betrothal for him before he obtained his knighthood.

He left the door to his room open, hoping the Kel would seek him out after she had tended to Peachblossom when she finished with her conversation with Lord Raoul. Joren started to work off some of his excess energy by doing push-ups, something he learnt from the Shang Wildcat. He was surprised that he hit fifty just before Kel came rushing in.

“Lord-Raoul-asked-me-to-be-his-squire!” Kel spoke so quickly that only the expectation that it was going to occur after the knight had asked to speak with her made what she said understandable to Joren.

“Congratulations. I told you that you would have a knight-master soon. I am assuming that you accepted. You would have to be absolutely insane to reject such an offer,” Joren smiled as he pushed himself up off the floor and sat on his bed. Kel was beaming in a way that nearly made Joren do something stupid. His heart nearly burst through his chest at her happiness and he wanted to blurt out his own feelings or possibly just kiss her. He barely managed to restrain himself from such actions.

Kel didn’t seem to notice his struggle though. She was practically bouncing and Jump, whom Joren hadn’t noticed until just then, was running laps around the room. She started speaking again but a little slower now, “I have to pack all my stuff back up, I will be staying in rooms connected to Lord Raoul’s. Apparently, we will be coming and going so much it would be impractical for me to stay in the squire’s wing.”

She rushed out of his room just as quickly as she appeared, and Jump disappeared with her. Joren was glad, since it meant she completely missed the fall of his smile as his heart plummeted to his stomach. He was happy for her, no one would be able to deny her earning her shield if she was Lord Raoul’s squire. The man held the respect of conservatives and progressives alike. However, her bouncing about on the heels of the Own meant that it would be a rare sight to see her. Worst, she would be constantly surrounded by attractive sons of nobles. He immediately scolded himself for the thought.

Her happiness and shield came first. He had already promised himself he wouldn’t even attempt to act on his feelings until she had become a Lady Knight. That was an event four years into the future. The bell sounding that it was almost lunch let him know he had been dwelling on his thoughts much longer than he realized. 

He joined Kel and Neal as they left Kel’s room, having been banished by Lalasa so that the maid could pack Kel’s things properly. Neal revealed that Sir Alanna was to be his knight-mistress. Joren couldn’t stop laughing at the thought. The heir to Queenscove had the inability to speak without doing so with sarcasm. The Lioness was famed for being hot-tempered. He had no doubt that the combination would lead to many an amusing moment in the future. That was something Joren anticipated with glee.

Joren stopped laughing by the time they reached the mess hall, but his wide smirk hadn’t faded, resulting in the confusion of the other squires in the group he now called friends. Neal explained that he was to be the Lioness’s squire. Joren found that he wasn’t the only person to see the potential for amusement. Neal’s frown finally ended the laughter but more than a few of them couldn’t hold in the occasional chuckle. 

The group’s conversation devolved into other topics like where their knight-masters, or mistress in Neal’s case, would be taking them. When they broke away, sometime in the afternoon, Joren went back to his rooms and went back to studying some legal point for the next day’s congress session. He knew he would need to know the finer points of the topic. They were discussing the legality of withholding the full inheritance of females in the cases where there were no sons to inherit. This was a topic close to the hearts of many a noble. 

Plenty of families only had one son or no son at all. Lord Wyldon was the patriarch of one such family. Joren’s own mother was willing to lie to both king and country about Oliver’s linage because of the fear of such things. He briefly broke his study for supper but after that went back to the legislature without pause until he fell asleep at his desk.


	9. Late Summer 456/ Fall 456

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Joren spends his time while Kel is away with the Own during the fall.

When Joren woke the next morning, Kel was gone. Lalasa came by to inform him that she was called away for a mission in the middle of the night. Joren felt his stomach drop at the news but only because he knew that it was unlikely that he would see her for an extended length of time. As a distraction, he dove back into his extensive research all things being discussed for the last week of congress. 

There would be a lot of voting and he wanted to be making informed decisions. His uncle had made it clear that while he was legally in charge of the voting for the moment, Joren’s input would be extremely definitive so long as the teen could defend his stance. Thus, he wanted to be able to show that he truly did understand what was being said and its purpose as well as his stance on the matter. 

By then end of the week, he felt completely drained. He had to defend vigorously his stance on every vote before his uncle agreed to vote the way he wanted. Sometimes he had almost given up on a few of the smaller points, especially as he knew that many others weren’t in agreement with him. However, there was one thing that Sir Paxton taught him in the past two years, and if he was honest Lord Wyldon had tried to instill in him before then. 

The fact that the code of Chivalry should apply to all nobles, regardless of how long their families have been noble or their wealth. They were all responsible for the welfare of those below them or in their care. Joren had failed to understand that until he had faced a god. His behavior as a page had been beyond reprehensible. He now understood exactly why Kel had gotten into so many fights with him, regardless of their effectiveness. She, at age ten, could fully comprehend what he still struggled to fully comprehend at age sixteen. 

The earning the way custom was fine if it was limited to small tasks, that taught respect for your elders in a way and was similar to the expectation of pages preforming errands for nobles and such. What he and the others had done though was inflict pain for their own pleasure and amusement. Vinson had clearly taken that to a new level. Garvey might not be horrible if he distanced himself from Vinson. Zahir had come to learn that it was wrong before Joren did. He let his thoughts drift as he packed his bags. 

He and Sir Paxton were for the hill country in the morning and after the last week, he couldn’t wait for the chance to skirmish with bandits. He had heard that Kel was hunting a group of them that included centaurs. That night he drifted off to sleep, hoping that maybe Kel’s hunt would take her in his direction. In a way, he knew it was wishful thinking. It was unlikely that those they chased would go so far as the hill country, but he still hoped.

Eight days of solid riding later, Joren and Sir Paxton arrived at a local army outpost. It was the same one that Kel had apparently visited after her skirmish with bandits during her second summer as a page. It was after he had become a squire, but he was still impressed. The captain from that time had long since been replaced, no one wanted a leader who would take bribes from those he was supposed to be capturing. The new army captain was more than willing to accept the extra help, even if it was just two men. 

They spent a full two months in hill country. There was plenty of work hunting small bandit groups. The conditions weren’t too bad either. The local commander of the army outpost had done a good job of keeping the groups to a minimum. Also, it helped distract Joren from less pleasant thoughts while teaching him the finer points of combat. Still, he was happy when fall truly set in and Sir Paxton declared he had no desire to ride back to the palace in snow. He could only hope that Kel and his other friends had returned as well.

When they reached the palace, it was almost evening. He and Sir Paxton had barely enough time to brush down their horses and drop their bags in their rooms. Sir Paxton told him they could resume his studies in politics the next day and to simply go to supper. When he entered, it was to see most of the pages and the squires in residence the palace already seated. He quickly got a tray of food and headed towards the squires’ tables. He debated for a moment before joining Neal and Cleon rather than Zahir. He still nodded to him but Zahir was sitting with Garvey. Garvey was too close to what he wanted to avoid becoming. 

Neal and Cleon didn’t bat an eye when Joren joined them, instead they started talking about what they had been up to. Cleon had arrived two days before and Neal almost a week before that. Neal informed him that Kel had returned only for a short while before going off again with the Own. They also informed him that she had been eating with the Own as well. At this point, Neal eyed Joren and glanced at the other table with Zahir and Garvey. Joren raised his eyebrow at him before turning to Lord Wyldon who was entering the mess hall with another knight. 

Once the training master finished with the prayer to Mithros, they all started eating. As the meal progressed Cleon and Joren discussed various events that had occurred while they were away. Neal was surprised that the two got on so well. He had interacted with Joren since Kel had seemed to be friends with him and so had Cleon, but he had thought that perhaps it had been a show to get them to drop their guards. However, Kel wasn’t around to see him with Garvey and Zahir. Zahir wasn’t even that bad anymore. He could easily have claimed he wanted time with his other friend but hadn’t.

“Ok. What gives? Are you really serious about this whole ‘changed’ thing?” Neal finally blurted out while Joren and Cleon talked about the comparisons of hill bandits’ verses Scanran raiders.

“What are you talking about?” Joren looked completely baffled. He had thought that Neal had, like the others, accepted that he really had walked away from his old life.

“This whole thing. Is it a very convoluted plan or are you actually serious?” Neal questioned seriously. He kept his voice down, not wanting to draw attention from others at different tables.

“What has he done to make you think this is a plot?” Cleon asked, his voice carefully neutral. Cleon eyed both of them wondering if something had happened.

“How about the first two years that Kel was a page? Does that ring a bell? He isn’t exactly a stranger to cruelty or plots. Remember midwinter service when you were both fourth year pages?” Neal didn’t let up while Cleon simply shook his head.

“You’ve spent a summer and fall with your knight-mistress. Did she not teach you anything? Have her teachings altered the way you look at the world? Circumstances change. That makes people change,” Cleon pointed out. Joren stayed quiet while the two argued over him.

“It’s real. It has to be real. I die if it isn’t,” Joren finally informed them in a pause of their bickering.

This caused both of them look at him. They realized that they had touched on a sensitive topic but didn’t understand why. Joren’s pale face had gone sheet white and his words sounded ominous. 

“What do you mean you die if it isn’t?” Neal asked finally which caused Joren to go even whiter if that were even possible.

Joren shook his head, “Not here. I will explain in my rooms after we finish eating if you insist but not here and you have to swear not to tell anyone else.”

Cleon and Neal shared a look. Cleon’s expression was of actual concern. He and Joren had become good friends the year before, despite their past. Neal looked confused but he lived for information and so he nodded his agreement. They both finished eating quickly. Joren had lost all appetite and went to dispose of his tray while they finished. He then went to his rooms and paced. Not even a quarter an hour later there was a knock on the door and Cleon and Neal were both let in. Once they entered, Joren locked the door and gestured for them to sit on the chairs near the closed window.

He paced and opened his mouth than closed it several times. When he finally spoke, it lacked the confidence he had previously shown, “W-when my first fall with Sir Paxton came… Well… originally, we were supposed to go to the palace since he doesn’t like really spending much time around his parents, they are too conservative. A-any ways, right before we left our summer posting, Sir Paxton’s father ordered him to go to Nond instead. This meant we took a different route then we had originally intended, and Sir Paxton delayed wherever he could.

“We passed through Trebond and spent several days there. The second day, Sir Paxton or-ordered me to the library to find reading material to study. Wh-when I got to the li-library, a- a-…” Joren stopped and looked at them, pleading for them to believe him.

“A god appeared. He said his name was Kyprioth, th-that because of all my pranks and such, I honored him. He said that he was going to help me because of it. He told me that the path I had been walking was dangerous. Then, he showed me my fate if I continued along it. Apparently, Keladry is favored by Mithros. If I… If I didn’t change my ways, my fate was death a-at the hands of the Chamber of Ordeal,” When Joren finally finished he stopped and stared into the fire. Neal was about to speak when Joren continued. “Lady Rispah came a short while later and told me the Trickster told her to give me a few books, which she did.”

Joren pointed to the two books on the table next to Neal. He hadn’t put the third book with them, that was private information for him. It was bad enough that he was telling them this. He wouldn’t tell them the Trickster wanted him to court Kel, not when it was obvious that at least one of the others had feelings for her.

Neal picked up the books and nodded in understanding. He spoke carefully, “Normally, I would say to be careful of the advice given by Kyprioth. Lady Alanna’s husband, the Baron of Pirate’s Swoop honors him. In this case though, I think any mischief he seeks to cause is mitigated by the fact that he is directing you towards a better way of life. Did he say why exactly he was doing it?”

Joren shrugged, a great weight off his shoulders to know that he was believed, “Only that he didn’t want the attention brought on him by my causing problems for. I didn’t really push for details. I was a bit distracted by an image of my death.”

Neal nodded. Cleon was now also as pale as a ghost. When he finally spoke, it was to Joren’s relief, “Well, all gods have their favorites. I remember Sir Miles saying everyone has an encounter with a god in some way at least once in their lives. He also said that just doing what the gods wanted was simpler. I get why you didn’t want to talk about this in public though.”

“I’m surprised he can talk about it at all. Normally the gods don’t like it. I hope that doesn’t mean we’ll be dragged into whatever mess the trickster gets into in the future,” With this Neal shrugged. Joren and Cleon both wondered at his easy acceptance but moved past it.

“Are you ever going to tell Kel?” Cleon asked suddenly.

“Please don’t. She has enough going on. There is so much pressure on her about her success or failure to gain her knighthood. She thinks that if she fails that it will be next too impossible to convince other noble families to let girls become knights. If she learnt gods were invested in her knighthood she might really collapse under such weighty pressure,” Neal spoke before Joren could.

Cleon and Joren nodded. Cleon smirked suddenly, “As if anything could make Kel fail. She thrives on the challenge. She would have withered away in a convent trying to be a ‘proper lady’. Those old conservatives can eat their own hearts out. She’ll probably be the best knight out of all of us. You know, I heard she bested a centaur by herself on that bandit hunt she was on this past summer.”

They all eased into the less serious topic comfortably. If Neal looked between Joren and Cleon more than he spoke, Joren only assumed it was because of worry rather than anything else. Neal, however, was now suspicious for a different reason. He no longer doubted that Joren was sincere about his change. 

You couldn’t fake tremors and blood draining from the face like that. Not to mention that he had used his magic to check Joren’s emotions when they first entered, and the fear was very real. No, he was noticing how Joren’s eyes seemed to light up as they talked about Kel. It was like the memory of a god visiting disappeared with the mention of her most recent exploits. Cleon, Neal knew had at least a crush on Kel, it was obvious as the sun. Joren was a revelation though. He had no intentions of sharing this line of thinking and contributed when asked about his adventures with the, currently only, lady knight of Tortall. 

The next morning, Joren felt at ease when he went down to breakfast with Neal and Cleon. They were all a little surprised when Zahir sat with them rather than Garvey. The Bazhir didn’t bat an eye when Cleon and Neal looked incredulously at him. Joren asked him how he was.

“I believe that, much like yourself, I can no longer tolerate the behavior of Garvey or Vinson,” was the only response that he got. Joren had to resist the urge to chuckle while Neal and Cleon stared with their jaws wide open.

“Yes, Zahir can be blunt. You’ll get used to it,” Joren answered their unasked question simply making them both switch to staring at him. He shrugged in response. “He always was the voice of reason.”

The presence of Zahir and the late night before resulted in a quiet breakfast. When they finished, Zahir followed Joren back to his room to talk. Joren actually felt a sense of relief. While he did enjoy Cleon and Neal’s company, Zahir had probably been his closest friend before everything else had happened. 

The teen was much more intelligent than he let on. Zahir ibn Alhaz was also the first Bazhir squire and squire to the king himself. The two started talking and ended up spending most of the morning getting caught up. The king had apparently made it quite clear that Lady Knights would return and Zahir had to agree that if any female would truly break the barrier that stood in the way of that it would be Keladry of Mindelan. Joren was relieved that he could retain at least one of his friends from before.

Zahir made a clear display of entering the mess hall for lunch with Joren and they both gave Garvey a wide berth and sat with Neal and Cleon. Garvey scowled but refrained from commenting. It was one thing to verbally attack Joren but Zahir was virtually untouchable. He was under the king’s guidance and had the king’s ear. 

When they finished their lunch, Joren suggested, much to the surprise of all, that they all talk to their knight-masters about sparring together for the afternoon. All agreed, though Neal and Cleon looked a little skeptical about the likelihood of Zahir being able to join them. Sir Paxton smiled and readily agreed to the suggestion. 

When they entered the training fields, which were empty with the pages at their afternoon lessons, Joren and Sir Paxton were the first there. Zahir and the king arrived next with Neal and Sir Alanna. Neal was surprised about the King’s willingness to come but as Sir Alanna acted as if it wasn’t of much import he let it go without remark. Cleon and Sir Inness arrived last. Both looked surprised but made the proper bows to the monarch. 

Joren, Neal, Cleon and Zahir were all ordered to practice with swords while on horses. Sir Alanna informed them bluntly that it was imperative that a knight be able to fight with extreme skill while on their horse. Joren had to resist laughing at Neal’s expression over the practice as much as Sir Alanna’s response to the expression. The king made no such consideration and chuckled softly. Neal eventually accepted his fate and they went about their practice. 

After sword work came tilting at rings. Half way through the afternoon their collective knight-masters called a halt and told them they were done for the day. Surprisingly, all the squires had enjoyed themselves and so after a little discussion it was decided that Sir Inness and Sir Paxton would oversee future afternoon practices since King Jonathan and Sir Alanna were often buried in work.

They were then ordered to clean up and not to be late to supper. They all made a quick trip to the bath house and once they finished what ended up being a prolonged affair, headed to the mess hall. By this point they were all starving. Each headed directly to the serving lines. Joren was the first to notice Kel and when he did, he pointed it out to Neal and Cleon. Zahir wasn’t particularly interested but still followed the other three over to where she sat.

“Mithros defend us, it’s the King’s Own squire!” Neal practically shouted as they approached. Joren could see the amusement on Kel’s face. They all greeting the other two who were at the table before taking seats as Neal continued. “When did you get back? Where’s your fledgling?”

When Neal picked an orange feather off Kel, Joren became thoroughly confused. He clearly hadn’t heard all the news yet. Cleon stood in the spot next to Kel and asked to sit next to her. Joren resisted the frown he felt as she agreed, and Cleon sat next to her.

“When did you get back?” Cleon repeated Neal’s question. “We weren’t sure how long you’d be gone…”

“Or if you’d ever eat here again,” Neal interrupted. “We heard you mostly take meals with the King’s Own.”

“Because my friends were away,” Kel responded logically. “When did you get back?”

“I’ve been here a week, hiding from my lovely knight-mistress. She doesn’t need a sword. That temper sharpens her toungue just fine. This red-headed giant’s been in three days and the ice queen returned yesterday.”

Joren glared at Neal but didn’t respond as Cleon had started talking, “Scanran border’s cooled down. All the weather auguries are for a bad winter. Bursetin Pass is already snowed shut. Sir Inness decided if we were to reach the palace this year, we’d best go now.”

“You see much action up there?” Asked Balduin of Disart, who had already been at the table when they sat down. “We’ve been on the Gallan border, not that it’s a picnic, mind.”

This resulted in Cleon recounting his summer more elaborately than he had the night before. Joren felt contented in his being accepted into this new circle of people. When the talk shifted to Kel, he paid a lot more attention though. He also noticed the spark in her eye when she began talking about Neal’s cousin, Sargent Domitan of Masbolle. The conversation got interrupted with the arrival of Lord Wyldon and Kel’s brother Sir Inness.

“So what’s this about a centaur?” Balduin asked to restart the conversation. “You fought one?”

“Oh, that,” Kel was focusing on her food despite the conversation being focused on her summer. “Yes, on foot, and he nearly kicked my belly through my spine. I’d rather hear about Scanra.”

“Did you use a sword or spear?” Prosper questioned, not letting it go.

“My lord lets me use my glaive. All the men carry some kind of pole arm,” She turned to Cleon. “So, who’s this new warlord?”

Cleon started in about the Scanran but was interrupted when the door opened. A woman Joren immediately identified as Yamani walked in and up to the dais where Lord Wyldon and Sir Inness sat. The lady’s ornate dress kimonos and beautiful hair had the pages and squires stunned into silence. She bowed to the men on the dais before speaking, “Please excuse me. I come at the request of my mistress, Her Imperial Highness, Princess Shinkokami.” If her looks and dress hadn’t given her away, her accented common would have. Still her formal address and blank face made Joren realize that Kel’s mannerisms when she arrived at the Palace were definitely Yamani, though they had all guessed at it.

Lord Wyldon got up and bowed to the Yamani Lady and spoke after stepping off the dais, “I am the training master, Lord Wyldon of Cavall. How may I assist you and your imperial mistress?” Joren smirked when he realized Wyldon was being just as formal. Kel, however had already set aside her napkin and seemed to be readying to stand herself.

“My mistress says that she has been told that Squire Keladry of Mindelan is here,” the lady bowed again before continuing. “Might this unworthy servant of the princess be permitted to speak with her?”

Keladry slipped out of her seat and was already headed over when Lord Wyldon beckoned her. Joren realized that the Yamani might be even more formal than Kel ever was. Kel bow traditionally to Lord Wyldon and then in the Yamani manner to the lady.

“Please excuse me,” Kel was speaking in Common much to everyone’s relief. “But have I the honor of addressing the Lady Yukimi noh Daiomoru?”

“You have changed very much too, in six years, Keladry of Mindelan. There is more of you than there was,” Lady Yukimi’s name was undoubtedly being filed away by all the pages and squires present, Joren only because he figured if Kel knew the lady and was smiling than she was probably a friend.

“If you will excuse me? I know you have much to discuss with Squire Keladry,” Lord Wyldon was polite in his interruption. “Outside, perhaps?”

Yukimi bowed to him again, “My Lord, may I ask if Squire Keladry is permitted to visit my mistress when her meal is complete?”

“Keladry must ask her knight-master,” Wyldon replied before bowing again and going back to his table. 

Kel and Lady Yukimi spoke in Yamani for a moment before the Lady bowed to the room which meant they all had to stand and bow in response. Joren did so quickly before reseating himself as Kel escorted the lady out. A short while later Kel reentered alone and was besieged by the others about details of the Yamani Ladies. It was Cleon who silenced them and then Neal drawing their attentions away by talking about his knight-mistress. His offer to trade was received and responded to by Kel telling them about her jousting lessons with Lord Raoul. More than a few of them shuddered at the idea of facing such an activity. The conversation changes to the fact that Kel would likely spending the evening with the Princess and Yamani Ladies before teasing Neal about his poetry. 

Joren was sorry to see that other than meals, Kel’s time was frequently dominated by the Yamani Ladies and Princess. Then, as the season turned, the Own departed once more to the south to deal with rebellion and various other matters. 

When Kel left with the Own, Joren found himself cornered by Cleon in his own room. The bigger male didn’t seem hostile, just determined, “We need to talk. Alone and it needs to be a talk that is between just the two of us.” Cleon shut and locked the door to ensure they wouldn’t be interrupted.

“You see. I have this theory. It is possibly a theory you share. The theory is that we are surrounded by a bunch of blind bats. There is a single female, beautiful in both personality and her own unique sort of graceful way, surrounded by a bunch of blathering idiot men who can’t see her for the gem that she is,” This last bit caused Joren to smirk as he sat on his bed.

“What makes you think I hold the same theory?” Joren’s voice was bland.

“Because, unlike all the other blind bats who are capable of only seeing the traditional thin veneer of pretty of the court ladies, you seem unmoved by even the beautiful Yamani ladies that accompanied the Imperial Princess,” Cleon took the seat in front of Joren’s desk and turn it to face the other squire before sitting in it.

“Is that so? How are you sure that I am not simply taking a page out of Kel’s book and hiding my interest in those court beauties?” Joren resisted the urge to chuckle at Cleon’s expression of disbelief.

“Because while you show no interest when a court or Yamani lady is present, you do have a keen interest when Kel is so much as mentioned. Never mind that you’ve probably spent more time around her despite that little terror in her care than anyone other than myself and Kel’s Yamani friends,” Cleon now wore a smirk at Joren’s chuckling.

“Much as you do yourself. My, my, we do have a predicament don’t we,” Joren smiled more easily now. 

Cleon’s expression however turned serious, “Very true, however, the way I see it, we can look at this one of two ways. A rivalry, which I would rather not deal with, if we’re being honest. The way I see it, I’m also at a serious disadvantage to you as well. You may not know this, but I have an arranged marriage, one I doubt I could get out of with ease, if at all. My lands, as you may know, are in need of a revival and my family lacks the finances to do so without that marriage. Now, if no one else had shown interest in Kel I might have thought to try and do so. I care for her deeply. However, you, as far as I know, have no such issues. Stone Mountain is wealthy, prosperous and there are no arrangements necessary to ensure it lasts,” Cleon’s commentary had Joren’s eyebrows raised.

“What exactly are you suggesting?” Joren asked cautiously.

“That I back off in deference to you, with the assurances that you respect and treat Kel right. I know that neither of us can dictate her life but at least we can offer her someone who sees her for the beauty that she is,” Cleon spoke clearly, making his position on the matter clear.

“So, we give her the choice of me if she wants it?” Joren questioned cautiously before sighing. “I intended to wait until she gained her knighthood. She herself has stated she wants that first and foremost. I don’t want to distract her from that.”

Cleon sighed his relief, “I doubt anything could, and I’m not implying that you should even make a move just yet. You’re right that she probably wouldn’t want even the possibility of distractions. You can still show her subtle interest, so she doesn’t think that she is unwanted though.”

“Oh, I’m ahead of you on that. You know those lovely weaponized hair pieces Kel received last year?” Joren smirked at Cleon’s surprised expression.

“That was you? Very clever, but you couldn’t do anything more romantic? Flowers maybe?” Cleon asked.

Joren shook his head, “You know so little of warrior-maids. The theme I believe I will go with is beautiful but deadly. The Yamani are actually very useful for that. I got her this fancy fan that’s bladed alone the spines. Here, take a look.” Joren pulled out a thin box and opened it to reveal the unfurled fan.

Cleon carefully examined the fan before smirking and nodding, “Beautiful and deadly you say? I suppose it is a fitting theme. What’s this called by the way?”

“Shukusen is what the shop owner said. A Yamani ‘lady fan’ to be carried when they don’t want to be seen carrying a weapon. A practical gift for someone attempting to be a lady knight when you think about it,” Joren’s smirk made Cleon groan.

“You are going to be insufferable with this aren’t you?”

“You’re the one who wanted to talk about it,” Joren pointed out, chuckling.


	10. Winter 456/457

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The events of Vinson's trial and what comes after for Joren

Cleon and Joren’s conversation brought a closer friendship between them and Cleon made a concentrated effort to ignore his feelings for Kel. The delay in her return caused them both no small amount of worry though, since the weather had turned bitterly cold and the snow fall was deep. Then the men hired to kidnap Lalasa came forward with who had hired them to do so. Joren wasn’t surprised to know it was a noble. He even was certain he knew which noble it was, though it hadn’t been announced.

Joren knew that word had been sent to Lord Raoul as Kel’s knight-master. When the trials started, he offered to sit with Lalasa and Tian in moral support until Kel arrived. They seemed to greatly appreciate this. Two days after the trial began, a servant knocked on Joren’s door and gave him a note from Lalasa telling him that Kel had returned. 

The next day, he sat on Lalasa’s left while Kel sat to her right. Lord Raoul sat on Kel’s other side. Behind them sat Neal, Cleon, Tian, Gower, Kel’s parents, Sir Inness and even Prince Roald, who had just arrived from Port Legann right before the beginning of the trial. Lord Wyldon also sat in the section for the wronged party. 

Across the aisle was Sir Nualt of Rosemark, Vinson’s knight-master. To his right was Vinson’s uncle who was also Joren’s father’s steward to handle interests in Corus while he was away. Joren silently promised himself that he would get rid of the man once his father passed. Next to his steward was an advocate.

“Master Advocate Muirgen of Sigis Hold,” Raoul whispered the name to Kel but Joren heard as well. “He’s very good- the best money can buy.”

“There’s little he can do when everybody knows Vinson is guilty,” Kel’s response was a whisper too.

Duke Turomot scowled at them after giving the prayer to Mithros, “These proceedings are a matter of law, not of noble privilege. Should you have challenges to issue, make them elsewhere. We…”

What he was about to say next was not to be known because just then the King and Queen were announced, and everyone forced to rise and either bow or curtsy depending on their mode of dress. The King and Queen took a seat in the two thrones that normally were only there as a reminder of royal dominion. Duke Turomot resumed his seat only after the monarchs nodded to him and only then did everyone else sit as well. 

First the two convicted kidnappers were admitted and announced before they announced why they were testifying. Next the clerk called out, “Admit the noble prisoner.”

Out came Vinson of Genlith, arrogant and callus as usual. He bowed to the monarchs and Duke Turomot before taking a seat next to his uncle and advocate. He sat without even looking to the people that he was here for harming.

“Ivath Brand and Urfan Noll, do you see the man who paid you two gold nobles to kidnap Lalasa Isran?” demanded Clerk Hayward.

Both the convicted commoners pointed at Vinson without hesitations. Vinson’s uncle stood at this point, “If I may speak, my lord Duke.”

Turomot’s nod of his head had the man continuing, “I am Ebroin of Genlith, uncle to Squire Vinson and standing in my brother’s place as he is unable to be in Corus at the moment. With me is Master Advocate Muirgen of Sigis Hold, licensed to speak in law in Tortall, Tyra, Maren and Galla. He will serve on Squire Vinson’s behalf.”

“I know Master Advocate Muirgen,” Duke Turomot acknowledged the man now bowing to the monarchs and himself. “He may speak as required.”

Ebroin sat while the master advocate began his argument, “Your Majesties, my Lord Magistrate, the testimony of convicted men in such matters is a jest. They give Squire Vinson’s name to please the Watch interrogators. They had to offer a truly big fish to justify any change in their sentence. They…”

The convicts spoke out at this point and after a little abuse and some complaints from the advocate were escorted out. The advocate tried next to argue there was no evidence connecting him to the crime only to have maps of the palace presented and requested truth spells deemed unusable since their users were clearly unfit for any form of decent living. 

This was all interrupted by Vinson’s cold voice, “Oh, stop it already. These two have been talking at me for days. I’m weary of it. I paid those idiots to steal the wench and stash her on Balor’s Needle. I paid a…” 

At this point both advocate and uncle tried to silence Vinson’s arrogant tirade while Sir Nualt of Rosemark held his head in hands in shame.

“Squire Vinson, I beg you, not another word,” Ebroin spoke hurriedly. “Think of our family and its honor! There are ways to handle…”

Vinson pushed his uncle away roughly, “For a man from my great family, you talk like a merchant. My Honor? What honor has a nation when a female lives among men and pretends to their profession of arms? What honor is there in forcing Lord Wyldon to accept this unnatural creature into training and to allow her to continue?” Kel looked at the floor, clearly enraged.

“I was not forced, Vinson,” Lord Wyldon spoke against the squire’s argument. “She earned her right to stay, as much, no, more than, you lads. Against odds that might have broken one of you.”

“And you are honor bound to say that,” Vinson responded though clearly not accepting it. He spat at the flagstones in front of her as Kel glared at him. “I had her coming and going. Either she failed in her duty to her servant and I’d have made sure the world knew how the wonderful Keladry had shirked her first obligation as a noble or she’d be so late she’d have to repeat the whole four years. No one would do that.”

Vinson paused in his rant before continuing, “My Lord Duke, you and the other examiners made allowance for her, because certain interests in this kingdom mean her to succeed. You allowed her to take the big examinations alone. Of course, she passed. So, I paid those men. I give you leave to sentence me under the law.”

Duke Turomot looked ready to spit venom at Vinson’s arrogant display, “You are fortunate that, by law, a magistrate may not challenge for insult, Vinson of Genlith. I submit you knew that much before you found the courage insult to such to me and my examiners. But Mithros waits in judgement, you arrogant puppy. You may twist our law to suit you, but he weighs your every act, and will find you wanting.

“With regard to your actions, the law is specific. According to The Laws of Tortall, section five, chapter twelve, paragraph two, in the matter of one noble’s interference with the body servant of another noble: the offending noble must pay recompense for the loss of that servant for that period of time, in addition to the time which other servants spend attempting to help find the servant thus interfered with; the expense of any care of the servant following the interference; all expenses incurred by the noble with regard to court prosecution; and those costs incurred to bring said noble to court. I therefore fine Genlith one hundred gold crowns, fifty of which are to be paid to Squire Keladry of Mindelan, five to the woman Lalasa Isran and four-five of which will be paid to this court for its expenses and those of the Watch.”

“One hundred gold crowns!” gasped Ebroin of Genlith. “The wench was gone not even a full day!”

“Silence!” barked Duke Turomot, slamming the granite ball to brass disk. “You lost the right to speak when your nephew confessed! The Isran woman earns commissions as a dressmaker to ladies, including, at the time of the interference, her royal majesty. I but included due concern for those delayed commissions.”

“Just pay them their cursed money, Uncle,” Vinson snapped arrogantly. “It hardly matters.”

He then strode out through the same door he had entered by. Duke Turomot looked ready to summon him back in rage. King Jonathan clearing his throat caught the magistrate’s attention however and the queen shook her head in a negative.

Sir Nualt stood, his face pale with shame, “Your Majesties, your grace, Squire Keladry, I beg your pardon for my squire’s behavior. I didn’t know of his crime. Had I known he would have behaved thusly I would have gagged him.”

“No noble is responsible for the utterances of another noble in court, unless there is proof that they are cohorts in the endeavor under study. It is known that you persuaded your squire to face this court and you are a knight of good character. No one believes you knew of Squire Vinson’s behavior. I would suggest, however, that you use the time remaining of his service to school him in humility and respect,” Duke Turomot’s words were ones of contained rage over Vinson’s behavior.

Sir Nualt bowed in embarrassment before turning and leaving. Turomot looked to Ebroin of Genlith, “Your dispositions, sir?”

Ebroin had been in heated discussion with the Master Advocate. He looked up, “If it pleases the court, I require three days to raise so great a sum.”  
“You have until sunset of the first night of Midwinter,” Duke Turomot snapped. “Each half-day you are late, a third of the sum will be added as penalty, subject to the same division as the original sum.” 

“A third?!” Ebroin screeched. He then bowed his head as Duke Turomot glared at him. “Very well, my lord Duke.”

Joren had watched as Kel became stiffer and stiffer as the trial had proceeded. Now she stood, “My Lord, I would like a question answered, please.”

The magistrate’s expression was odd as he responded, “Speak, Squire Keladry of Mindelan.”

“Did I hear correctly?” Joren could tell that Kel was struggling to maintain her blank exterior. “Vinson had Lalasa kidnapped, bound, gagged, blindfolded, and dragged all about the palace grounds in the dark. Then, she was left on an open platform where she could have rolled into the opening to the stairs and fallen to her death, and all he gets is a fine? For the inconvenience?”

“That is that law,” the Duke reluctantly responded in discomfort. “A maidservant belongs to her mistress. Squire Vinson deprived you of her services, I understand she worked at the time on a gown for her majesty and it caused disruption to her work later as a result of disordered nerves. I remind you the woman was also granted five gold crowns in my judgement.”

“Lady Kel, please, hush,” Lalasa begged, tugging on Kel’s arm. “The ones who did it are going to hard labor, that’s what matters.”

“They wouldn’t have touched you if he hadn’t paid them,” Kel tried to explain to Lalasa before turning back to the magistrate. “If he’d kidnapped me, he’d have gotten prison or trial by combat. But for her he tosses a few coins in our laps and goes on his way.”

“Your tone borders on the insubordinate,” Duke Turomot stated coldly. “My clerk will send you the law pertinent to cases in which nobles interfere with those of common blood under the protection of other nobles. These laws have been in our codes for centuries, squire, worked out by men far wiser than you. If you have no more questions…?”

Lalasa and Raoul tugged Kel back down on the bench and Raoul leant into her ear whispering low enough that Joren couldn’t hear him being on the far side of Lalasa. He did hear what Lalasa added to it, “It’s like me giving you my wages. I told you, most nobles keep nearly all of what their servants earn, it’s their right. Maybe you’re too full of ideals to do it, but other nobles aren’t. My lady, don’t make enemies here because of me!” 

As they talked, Duke Turomot had ended the trial, giving instructions to his clerk and the Master Advocate. Joren resisted adding his two coppers to the discussion recognizing the expression of Kel fighting the urge to give into her emotions. Apparently, emotion and her sense of justice won out because, before either Lalasa or Joren could do anything, Kel was around them and up to the king and queen. 

“Mindelan, don’t do this!” Joren and those around them heard Lord Wyldon make one last attempt to stop her. Kel’s blush of embarrassment brought a color to her face that Joren silently thought was rather becoming on her. He immediately silently chastised himself for the thought as it was neither the time nor the place.

“Your majesties, may I speak?” Kel asked.

Raoul had slid up behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder before whispering in her ear again. 

“Squire Keladry?” King Jonathan questioned with raised eyebrows.

“Privately, sire, if possible?” Kel requested, bowing the proper amount.

The Queen nodded, and the king looked at Turomot’s clerk, the Lord Magistrate having already vanished.

“Sire, my office is empty, if you will excuse the clutter,” the clerk offered quickly. The man went to one of the doors that led off the chamber and opened it with a low bow. 

Raoul asked another question softly, which Kel nodded her agreement before turning to Lalasa, “Lalasa? It concerns you.”

Lalasa immediately paled, “My lady, I couldn’t. That company’s too grand for the likes of me.”

“I’ll stay with her. Keep her safe until you return,” Joren offered, Kel nodded her agreement before going into the room with Lord Raoul and the monarchs. Once the door closed behind Raoul and the others, Joren offered to escort Lalasa back to her shop to ensure her safety. Lalasa agreed, realizing that there was potential of Vinson trying some other convoluted plot of revenge given that she was now no longer Kel’s maid legally, though Lalasa still considered herself as such.

When he finished escorting Lalasa back to her shop, Joren decided that he should let Kel know that the young woman was safely home. He knocked on her door, the room attached to her knight-master’s. He guessed that they were both in there as he heard talking within. His knock had gotten a call to come in. When he entered, it was to find Kel and Raoul stitching up a comforter, much to his bemusement.

“I just came by to tell you that I saw Lalasa back to her shop. I figured we wouldn’t want any retaliation from Vinson if it could be avoided. What happened here?” Joren asked as he looked at feathers, both copper and white drifted about on her floor.

“Just some chaos with the little terror over there. Thank you for making sure Lalasa was alright,” Kel gave Joren a smile that was one of the ones that always made him melt a little. She then turned back to Lord Raoul. “What was it like? You, Lady Alanna, the king. It’s hard to see you as pages or squires.”

“Oh, this is what you’re talking about? I need to hear this,” Joren stated, sitting on the edge of Kel’s bed to listen.

Raoul grinned at them both, “Like puppies in a basket. All paws and tails.” He began, telling the two stories of his past. He finished by telling a story about a fellow page who had beaten the page called Alan, until the day that the disguised Alanna had beaten him in turn. The story made Joren more than a little uncomfortable, easily seeing the similarities in his past to those of the bully from the story.

“The only smart thing Ralon ever did was leave after that. He’d never have passed his Ordeal. I’m afraid Squire Vinson won’t either,” Raoul finished. “Joren, let me just say that if you hadn’t changed from your path, you likely wouldn’t have either.”

“Sir?” Kel looked confused while Joren realized that Lord Raoul and Sir Paxton were of a similar mind on the matter. He had to fight to conceal his feelings about knowing how right Lord Raoul was on that matter. His surprise grew with what Raoul said next.

Raoul pointed to the longest tear, the only one left, “Race you to the middle of that. You need a certain amount of, oh, flexibility, to face the Chamber of the Ordeal. You have to know when to bend. If I were training master, I wouldn’t have let Vinson get this far.”

While Kel looked at Raoul in surprise, Raoul used it to his advantage on getting a head start on her for the final tear. As she finally started, she questioned him, “But if you pass the exams and do the work, and don’t do anything really bad, the training master can’t stop you from being a squire and taking the Ordeal.”

“Of course, he can,” Raoul responded, amused before glancing at Joren. “There are ways to discourage someone who is unfit. And often you’re doing them a favor. The Chamber is… Hard. It’s not that it’s merciless. To have mercy or lack it, you need humanity. The Chamber hasn’t got it. It would be like, oh, hating the griffin because he’s a thankless like bit of winged vermin. Yes, you. Don’t let it go to your head, either of you. Kel, the griffin can’t change what he is, and the Chamber is unchangeable. Squires have broken themselves trying to defeat it.” Joren was truly uncomfortable with Raoul’s dialogue by the time he finished and missed his teasing about being able to sew so quickly. 

Kel bantered back at him before Raoul turned serious once again, “Think about the king. If you’re wary, he won’t surprise you too often of too unpleasantly.”

Kel finished her repairs as she turned to Joren, “Well, no matter what my Lord says, some people can change. You were just like Vinson once and look at you now. You’re really trying hard to learn to do what’s right.”

“I’m not that much like Vinson. I was stuck in my ways, sure, but I wasn’t completely beyond saving. Otherwise, Sir Paxton wouldn’t have put this much effort into teaching me to be a better person,” Joren offered weakly, Lord Raoul’s commentary on the Chamber had him terrified again.

“I suppose you just needed the right guidance to bring it out. Joren, are you alright? You’re really pale and shaking,” Kel turned concerned as she finished fixing her comforter and she reached over to check his forehead. 

Joren jerked away, startled by her sudden proximity, “Yeah, I’m fine, just coming to terms that I had once been friends with the likes of Vinson. I’ll just leave you be.” With this he swiftly left Kel’s room and hurried back to his own. 

Once he was in his room he paced for a while until he finally calmed down by reminding himself repeatedly that he wasn’t the same person he had been when he was friends with Vinson and that he could survive the Ordeal if he tried hard enough to learn the Code of Chivalry and upholding the law. 

With the trial over, next came Midwinter. Joren counted himself unfortunate that he wasn’t serving at the same party as Kel for this night but pushed aside the reluctance to do his duties. He was fortunate when the next night he did serve the same party as her but there was unfortunately little interaction. The day after the longest night, Neal came pounding on Joren’s door which caused him a bit of confusion. 

When Neal entered and shut his door Neal immediately took a seat in one of the empty chairs, “So, for the second year in a row, Kel got a present from not only her mystery benefactor but also a secret admirer. See the thing is, while she is curious about this mystery benefactor, she is completely baffled by the secret admirer. Now, Cleon is the only one who ever gives her flowery complements, at least openly and the rest of our friends treat her with respect, but they don’t really view her as feminine. The thing is though that Cleon isn’t the type to give subtle gifts, he is a little more… straight forward than that, though he does clearly see Kel as a lady. The rest simply would have gotten her something that wouldn’t have even hinted at as romantic. All except for you, that is.”

As Neal spoke, Joren had gotten paler and taken to looking out the window rather than looking Neal in the eye, “I don’t know what you are talking about.” He attempted feebly.

“Oh, I think you do. See, you’re a planner and any one with half a brain for observation can see that you melt whenever Kel smiles at you, though to be fair, most of our friends aren’t very observant. It makes sense that you are her secret admirer because you have both the funds and the motive. The question is why you aren’t being more open about it?” Neal finished, noting that Joren was stiff as a board now.

“Why would I be? As it stands, she doesn’t look at me like that. I’m just a friend and with our history it is hard to believe she would just accept my feelings at face value. Besides, I don’t want her to think that I want her to give up the idea of her knighthood for me or think I would pressure her into something like that. My father is extremely conservative as well and his health is failing as it is, learning that I was interested in the first girl openly aiming for her knighthood would probably kill him. It is better this way. At least for now,” Joren finished and finally looked at Neal who looked at him in surprise.

“So, you have really thought about this? What about Cleon?” Neal asked, knowing that Cleon had feelings for Kel as well. “He likes her as well and could easily swoop in and steal her while you’re being all noble about your feelings.”

“Cleon is betrothed to a young lady heiress and it is one he can’t get out of. He knows he can’t get out of it. The dowry of the girl is needed to revitalize his family’s fief. He can’t break the contract without potentially breaking his fief,” Joren explained with a shake of his head, choosing not to mention his conversation with Cleon. That was something that would stay between the two of them.

“And if someone else comes along. Someone who is free to marry Kel and sees her worth. Someone like, say, my cousin, Domitan of Masbolle. He is fully capable of marrying her if he leaves the Own and he is around her frequently enough that she could possibly grow on him. Actually, as the rest of our fellow squires mature, they could notice just as easily the clear gem that Kel is,” Neal pointed out.

“As could you. Is this what this is really about? You’re interested now and trying to feel out the rivals?” Joren asked, brisling. He knew that if Neal put forth an effort, he might succeed at winning Kel over.

“No. Kel is like a sister to me. This is about me trying to ensure the girl I see as a sister isn’t hurt by the thoughtless whims of a reformed bully,” Neal raised his eyebrow at Joren stiffening again. “I don’t like people playing games with her. That’s what this is about.”

“I’m not playing games. Weaponized accessories aren’t exactly cheap, and I am sending her the very best. That should be a sign of how serious I am. At the same time, I want her to be happy. That’s why I’m waiting. I don’t want her to feel pressured. If she is interested in me, I will gladly jump at the chance. However, for now, I’m bidding my time. For all the potential of another suitor coming along, and believe me, I am not blind to the possibility of one, I am hoping that her ambition would hold any other suitor at bay as well,” Joren paced now. “If it doesn’t, well, not every courtship ends in marriage and I can hope that well placed gifts could give me an edge in proving my dedication.”

Neal burst into laughter at the serious tone that Joren finished with, “Alright, I get it. You are smitten and not playing with her. Good, I can feel less guilty about not telling her who it is sending them then.”

Just after Midwinter, Kel left again with the Third Company, almost to Joren’s relief. Neal was less likely to reveal his behavior if Kel wasn’t around to be told anything. Just two days after that, Joren and his uncle received news from his mother that Lord Burchard was in his last days. After some minor consultation between Sir Lionel and Sir Paxton, Joren was ordered to pack his bags, they would be heading for Stone Mountain immediately. 

Unfortunately, the Fief of Stone Mountain truly lived up to its name. The Fief got its wealth from opal and silver mines. Each lucrative on their own. Together, they had massed a great fortune for the family. This, however, was a product of living in the eastern mountains near the river Drell, almost at the junction of Galla and Tusaine. Stone Mountain was a fief made up of a literal, very large mountain. As such, traveling to Joren’s home wasn’t the simplest of feats, even in the summer. In winter, even a slow pace was grueling and uncomfortable. The group stopped at nearly every village as that was as far as they got in a day. It took them a solid two weeks to finally reach Stone Mountain. Lady Verene promptly informed them on their arrival that the healer felt Burchard had only days left to live. 

Joren barely got his things brought to his room before his mother reappeared and informed him that his father wished to speak with him immediately. Joren nodded and finished shedding his soaked through outerwear and ordered his valet to have a scalding hot bath drawn and ready for him upon his return to his rooms.

“To be honest, your father can hardly form a coherent sentence. It was just your bad luck that when I went to check on him, he was awake and lucid,” Lady Verene told him as she led her son through the cold halls of the ancient castle. “We have been keeping his rooms very warm though. Anything other than a roaring fire and anytime he is awake, Burchard is convinced we are trying to freeze him to death. I don’t think he is aware that the cold is his failing body and not the room though.”

Lady Verene had a notoriously bad relationship with her husband. She was just as stubborn and determined as Burchard was, which is why the man kept his wife a virtual prisoner in Stone Mountain. The only time she was allowed to leave was during the congress and then only because he didn’t trust his wife not to take over the fief while he was gone. Burchard had failed to realize, in his blind determination, Verene was the true head of the house. She allowed him to run things on the surface but beneath that, she and Lionel ran a full-blown rebellion against the man. Verene’s family had been old nobility but they were of a more progressive nature. That didn’t stop them from marrying her off to a man twenty years her senior just out of the convent to stabilize their failing fief, however. Verene had always secretly supported the current King and Queen for she felt they would be the end of men like her husband. 

It had nearly broken her heart to see Joren becoming so similar to her husband. It was her suggestion to Lionel that had brought her son to Paxton’s attention and she was seeing that the man had truly worked wonders. Joren no longer seemed to breath arrogance like his father. His friends had gone from would being despots to those that were close friends of and including the girl attempting to become a knight. Just before the entered the master chamber, Verene paused, “As much as it pains me to say this, don’t let your father realized that you no longer think the same way he does. It will just lead to him ranting and raving. I will instruct the servants to have your dinner sent to your rooms after you finish your bath too. I doubt you will want to do anything more than rest after your travel and then your father.”

“Thank you, Mother,” Joren responded quietly before entering the room. Verene didn’t bother. Her husband was convinced if she went anywhere near him that she was going to kill him. She wasn’t, not that she wasn’t tempted by this point in his sickness simply to put everyone out of their misery. However, she knew the battle was almost over and when it was, the man she despised above all others would have lost and she in turn would have won. After all, Joren was a far better man than she could have hoped for.

A healer sat in the corner furthest from the fire, clearly sweating from the heat in the room. Joren realized his mother hadn’t be exaggerating about the heat in the room and hoped that the interview would be short. 

“Come here, boy,” Burchard rasped out as soon as he saw Joren. “My heir, you did well by getting here before I passed. If you hadn’t, there is no telling what that wretched woman you call a mother would have been up to in order to steal your inheritance.”

“Father, you needn’t fear. Mother couldn’t take Stone Mountain, Uncle Lionel and the crown itself wouldn’t have let her,” Joren attempted to sooth the dying man.

“Psh… Your Uncle and the Royal family are all bleeding-heart progressives. Though, I suppose the other conservatives would stand up for you if necessary,” Burchard paused to give into a violent coughing fit. “That aside, you must promise to keep your mother from wreaking havoc on Stone Mountain. If she had her way, we would beggar ourselves to feed the peasants. Promise you will keep her from destroying this fief, my life’s work has been to build us to greater heights, and I won’t have us brought down by that common whore. I regret ever allowing her beauty to bewitch me as a foolish younger man. Now promise.”

Joren couldn’t help the smirk that came to his face. He had long since realized it was his mother that kept the fief from falling to bits under his father’s mistreatment it was an easy promise to make and one he could easily keep too, “Very well, if it will make you rest easy. I swear to Mithros himself that I will not allow Mother to destroy Stone Mountain or its wealth.” Joren worded it carefully, after all, he didn’t say anything about allowing his mother to run Stone Mountain, just to not allow her to ruin it. Though there was little chance of that ever occurring. 

Burchard sighed in relief and sagged into the bed, his will to stay awake fading quickly now that he had ensured his son’s promise. It was mere moments before the man was once more unconscious. Immediately, the healer went to the fire and lowered the flames to a more tolerable temperature and settled into a chair near the fireplace so that he might maintain it more comfortably. Joren nodded to him and exited the room. Immediately, goosebumps rose on every part of his skin as the general cold of the castle pierced through his still thoroughly damp clothing. 

He was absolutely shivering by the time he reached his rooms and sighed in relief to see that his bath was prepared, and that steam floated heavily above it. Even Burchard’s sweltering room hadn’t penetrated to his bones like the cold had so he immediately stripped and noted that, as per his instructions, the water was nearly scalding. He eased himself into it slowly as his valet collected his damp clothing. When the man finally returned, it was with a tray of warm food and Joren was fully immersed. The tray was wide enough the span the bath with room to spare so it was set directly in front of him. This allowed Joren to warm up and eat at the same time.

When he finished eating, he scrubbed the mud and grime from the road off in the now cooling water. When he finished scrubbing, he stood, and his valet dumped a final bucket of hot water over him to rinse him off before holding out a robe for Joren to put on and dry off. By this point, Joren was comfortable and warm once more. He dressed for sleep and as soon as his head hit the pillow, he was dreaming of hazel eyes in a pretty, even when determined, face.


	11. Spring/Summer 457

Lord Burchard of Stone Mountain died three days after his son returned, none the wiser about the change in his son’s morals. When informed of the promise Burchard had extracted from Joren, Verene had laughed loud and hard. She had spent too much effort keeping her husband from laying Stone Mountain’s wealth to waste to destroy the effort now. Lionel also got a chuckle out of the idea that Burchard was truly ignorant of what a poor Lord he truly made. 

In the time it took for Burchard to die, two blizzards had hit Stone Mountain and the family would have been hard pressed to reach the nearest village much less return to Corus. Lord Burchard had a rather dull funeral, only the village priest to attend to his interment into the family crypt with just Joren, Verene and Lionel to observe it. Not even Joren’s sisters Cassie and Margery were present, being stuck in the even more frozen convent in the City of the Gods. Little Oliver wasn’t in attendance because the weather was too harsh for the small boy to stand the cold. 

In the end, Paxton decided that Stone Mountain was as good a place as any to winter and none could reprimand him for ensuring that his Squire had a good grasp over his new fief upon the death of his father. By spring, Joren had aided his mother and uncle in sorting out the convoluted mess of Stone Mountain’s records. His parents silent war waged over control of the fief had led to quite a few discrepancies in their books but in the end Joren realized his mother had truly ruled the fief, despite his father’s best efforts. When the snow began to melt, Joren ordered his mother to pack for her and Oliver because he fully intended to allow her to enjoy her life now that his father was gone. Sir Lionel had agreed to act as steward of the fief and Lady Verene was to finally be free.

The enthusiasm that he received for his announcement had Joren baffled. His mother began going on about getting a whole new wardrobe for the Grand Progress that would take place over the next two years and Joren ended up tuning her out when she started on renewing her friendships with ladies she had known from her years in the convent before she had been locked up on the mountain. Sir Paxton couldn’t help but chuckle as the older woman went on. 

Her son couldn’t possibly understand what this kind of freedom meant to a woman who was a free spirit but had been shackled to a way of life she hated for eighteen years. Joren had eventually escaped to his own rooms to begin packing after assuring his mother that she could indeed have her own say in having a wardrobe made and that he would even arrange for it to be done by the very seamstress that worked for the Queen herself. By this point, he knew Lalasa well enough to know that she would be happy to do the work, especially at full price.

This had set his mother off on another fit of delight that had followed him through the halls of the castle as he retreated. His own packing was rather straightforward. He needed only a few things for himself. Paxton had informed him that they would just be sticking with the Grand Progress unless ordered elsewhere. Once his things were settled, he went to the nursery and ensured that Oliver’s nurse maid, and secretly his natural mother, had begun packing. He had no intention of letting his little brother languish by himself in Stone Mountain when he could have fun on the Progress. His mother would hardly be the only one with a younger child in the Progress. His sisters would be presented to court in the coming midwinter as well, so he intended for them all to enjoy themselves now that his father was no longer an issue.

The next day, Paxton and Joren observed while the top of the carriage was loaded with trunks and finally Lady Verene and Oliver along with his nursemaid were helped into it. Once they were secured, Joren and Paxton mounted and the group, along with a squad of men-at-arms departed from the still mostly snowy mountain top. They made little better progress leaving Stone Mountain than Joren and Paxton had made in getting there in the first place. It took a solid week to final reach Corus, by which time, Lady Verene was beside herself with excitement and Oliver had taken on his adoptive mother’s outlook on life and was bouncing in excitement when he was let out of the carriage at the Stone Mountain town house. 

Master Ebroin of Genlith, their Steward in Corus was frowning at the sight before him when he realized that Joren had no intention of keeping his mother a prisoner as his father had. Joren realized in that moment that he would have to dismiss Ebroin immediately, not that he hadn’t already decided to do so. Vinson’s uncle would most likely only cause problems in the coming years as he attempted to steer Stone Mountain and its wealth in a direction that his father would have despaired at.

This became even more apparent as soon as he had gone to what was now his study to find something to read after dinner that evening, “Master Joren, it is good to see you well. I must admit though, I was surprised to see Lady Verene and Master Oliver with you and Sir Paxton when you arrived.” The almost question in his voice told Joren that the man was hopeful that Joren would be of a similar inclination to his father.

Joren decided to immediately disabuse him of the situation, “Yes. I thought Mother and Oliver would enjoy participating in the excitement of the Grand Progress. Uncle Lionel can well care for Stone Mountain in her absence and I thought it would be nice for her to experience some real freedom after being locked up on a fief for the past two decades. Also, I know it likely new to you still, but it is Lord Joren now.”

“Oh, of course. How remiss of me to forget, my lord,” Ebroin had visibly paled as Joren had spoken. He then switched to another tactic. “It is just that… well, my lord, your father was always rather addiment that your mother not travel very much, her health was always a bit frail from what he implied.”

“Is that what Father always told people to justify his keeping her locked up and away from society? Well, it certainly isn’t true. I don’t think I ever recall a single instance of mother being ill in my life,” Joren shrugged and pulled out a few books from the shelves.

“Is that so, my lord? Well that is good to hear. Might I ask what you are looking for in my study?” Ebroin had approached him while he set the books on the desk.

“My study, I think you mean, Ebroin. This is my house, my study, my mother and these books are records of MY holdings if I’m not mistaken. I’m not mistaken, am I, Ebroin?” Joren looked firmly at the man who was now ghost white in realizing that his standing with the new Lord of Stone Mountain was not on as firm ground as he had thought. Joren felt pure and utter distain for the man before him.

“Of course, this is your home, Lord Joren. I would be happy to go over the records with you if you like. It is all somewhat complex to follow the numbers if you aren’t used to them,” Ebroin quickly attempted to sooth the irate younger man.

“No, thank you. I think Sir Paxton and Mother should be able to help me muddle through anything I don’t understand,” Joren gave him a tight smile and picked up a stack of books that contained the last three years in financial records. “I trust the Master bedroom has been made ready for me, Ebroin.”

“Of course, my lord. Your things have already been brought there,” The nearly translucent man breathed out. 

Joren nodded and left the room with the books. As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, Ebroin scrambled to the desk, pulling out a key from the chain around his neck and unlocked a drawer. Inside was a lock box that, when he opened it with a second key from the chain on his neck, contained a bag full of gold crowns. It was only thirty or so, but he figured that would easily by him passage to the Cooper Islands where he had sent all the money that he had quietly been taking from the Stone Mountain finances for the past decade. Lord Burchard had been a certifiable moron and never noticed the discrepancies but Ebroin knew that the same didn’t hold true for Lady Verene and Sir Paxton. 

With the gold stuffed into his tunic, Ebroin swiftly moved to his rooms and shoved some clothing into a bag. He shouldered it and slipped out through the servants’ entrance. He made quick work of saddling his horse and attaching the bag to the saddle. He sent a silent prayer to the Trickster as he mounted the horse and guided it first out of the courtyard and then out of the city. He had little knowledge that he had just done exactly what was expected of him.

“Well, that was easier than expected,” Verene observed, looking out the window as the Genlith man believed he was slipping out before being caught. “The Lord Provost’s men should be waiting for him in Port Caynn.”

Paxton shook his head in awe, “How long have you known that he was stealing from Stone Mountain?” 

“For years. When I first married Burchard, I attempted to point out the discrepancies to him, but he didn’t want to hear it. Instead, I made friends with the Lord Provost’s wife and during each Congress when I was let off the mountain would sneak down to the study at night and record the discrepancies and pass them on to her. The Lord Provost should send a man tomorrow to collect the records books as evidence against him. I fear my friendship with Lady Genlith will never be the same after sending her brother-in-law to prison,” Verene gave a mock sigh before chuckling. “I doubt we will ever fully recover the whole amount that Ebroin stole but at least he won’t be around to steal anymore. I’ve no doubt that a good chunk of it went to bolstering Genlith’s failing fief.”

“I still don’t understand why you didn’t tell me about him until just before we arrived here,” Joren questioned. 

“I wanted to have the evidence on hand before I condemned the man for you. Your father didn’t listen in part because I waited until we got back to Stone Mountain. Though, I suppose your idea to keep him from stealing or destroying the evidence was inspired, I thought,” Verene smiled in approval. It was just another piece of evidence that her son was more hers than her husband’s these days.

Joren nodded and went to bed. In the morning, he met briefly with the Lord Provost himself before he and Paxton moved up to the Palace. Joren also wrote a letter to the Gold Smith’s guild that his mother was to have access to whatever funds she considered necessary. When he dined with the squires in the mess hall, he received a slew of condolences from Cleon, Yancen, Zahir, Faleron and even Garvey. Vinson had predictably sneered at him but he hadn’t made any commentary to Joren which made Joren realize that the other didn’t yet know the mess the Genlith family was likely to be dragged through, in part because it was likely Ebroin had been stealing from Stone Mountain to bolster and keep the Genlith fief from completely floundering, along with keeping some of it on the side for himself. Joren wouldn’t even be surprised if it had been him who had paid the fine for Vinson’s crimes rather than the Genlith family.

Genlith was an old fief but it was also a fief that had long been mismanaged and while it wasn’t public knowledge, Joren had known that the coin required to pay off the fine from Lalasa’s kidnapping had likely cut deeper than most realized. He decided to leave it be for the moment though. Vinson would have enough to deal with soon. Joren focused on his friends and assured them that he and his father weren’t close and as such he had little need for condolences. 

His friends all nodded in understanding. His father was a well-known conservative that had been of a bent that most of them didn’t like either. He turned the conversation to the upcoming Progress and quietly inquired into the different viewpoints of what would be the best competitions to enter during the festivities. This lighter topic led to more general ones and Joren relaxed. 

Two days later, it became clear that Vinson had been informed of his uncle’s arrest because he had nearly attacked Joren in the practice courts, only his knight-master’s last-minute appearance had kept him from doing so. Sir Nualt of Rosemark and another knight had to hold Vinson back until he finished spitting his vitriol at Joren before storming off.

“What was that about?” Cleon asked in awe of such violent language used in such a colorful manner.

“We found evidence of his uncle having stolen a good-sized fortune from Stone Mountain over the past two decades. So, most likely that was his reaction to his uncle’s arrest,” Joren had shrugged and turned back to his friends and holding up his practice sword to go back to the sparring match with the much taller Cleon.

“How much was stolen exactly?” Faleron asked before they could begin again. 

“I am not sure of the exact figure, Mother only gave me an estimate but somewhere around the sum of twenty thousand gold crowns,” Joren responding before restarting the match and ending the discussion.

His friends all whistled in awe of the amount but let the matter drop, they all agreed that it was definitely grounds for having one’s own steward arrested. They all secretly convened and decided that it would be prudent to ensure that Joren wasn’t left alone very often as Vinson was clearly nearing the edge of his sanity. The Knight-Masters present for the practice were also in a silent agreement that an eye needed to be kept on Vinson of Genlith.

Two weeks later, Joren and his friends, sans Neal, who hadn’t returned with his knight-mistress, and Kel, who was still off with the Own, found themselves mounted on their horses and in a very long and slow-moving train of horses, carriages, carts and pack horses that were guided by more people than he could possibly list. Joren’s mother and younger brother were happily among the masses, Verene’s new wardrobe having been furnished by a very pretty penny out of Joren’s coffers and Lalasa’s shop was all the wealthier for it. In truth, Joren had a feeling that at the rate Lalasa was going, she would soon find she didn’t have to work beyond running the shop if she wanted. The woman was becoming very wealthy in her own right. 

Unsurprisingly, Joren and his friends quickly found that the only real source of entertainment for them to be found was on the tournament fields. In the evenings, the squires were forced to preform through the same ordeal they had as pages every year at Midwinter banquets. Joren found that while he was vaguely amused with the antics of Master Oakbridge, the constant feasts were intolerable. It wasn’t until June that Kel arrived with the Third Company of King’s Own, though they had been expected for over a week after a messenger had been sent to hurry them along.

Joren’s first sight of her was in the assembly room, waiting for the standard instructions from Oakbridge. He had to keep himself from gasping in pleasant surprise at seeing her. Secretly, he was grateful that only Neal and Cleon were aware of his feelings. Even though now Cleon gave him a knowing look as Kel joined their group, which now included Owen.

“Owen, you’ve joined our ranks?” Kel teased immediately after greeting them all. Her silence on him getting a knight-master was for the obvious reason that Owen wore the cloths of a squire attached to the palace. 

“I’ve got the title, but not the work,” Owen responded, despondent. Kel’s response was clearly sympathetic.

“What happened?” She asked carefully. “I thought surely you be chosen.”

“Lord Wyldon says it’s like last year,” Owen informed her. “You had the congress, so everyone took their time picking. Now it’s the progress. There are plenty of squire-less knights everywhere, but they are in no rush. It stinks and in the meantime, I get to answer to him.”

Owen had gestured to Master Oakbridge who was sending those he had been speaking with away and heading towards them. Kel gave Owen a reassuring hug that Joren would have liked for himself while Oakbridge began his usual tirade of doom for the feast. The spiel was the same as it had been for the past month. Squires attended the tables of their knight-masters and whoever dined with them. After the feast, they kept refreshments available at their posts. When he finished, Cleon was on one side of Kel and Joren on the other.

“We thought you would never get here,” Joren stated, he had missed her though he could hardly say it out loud.

“Lord Raoul was just finishing up a few things,” Kel excused the delay without looking at him. Staring at the finger bowl she had collected instead.

“Finishing up? Hah,” Responded Merric from behind them. “Everyone knows that the king had to order him to catch up now.”

“Well, is social scheduling what you thought you’d do as a knight?” Kel defended as they headed to the banquet hall, holding finger bowls.

“I didn’t think,” Merric was unusually cheerful in his response. “I just did what my parents told me to for once.”

They all split at this point to tend to their Knight-Masters. Joren was, unsurprisingly, serving Paxton who had been paired with a pretty girl who was likely sixteen and the others at the table were Joren’s mother along with a knight who had no squire apparently. As they attended to their tables, Joren kept an eye on Kel, smiling a little at the end when the confections came out. Joren was stuck at his post for far longer than most of his peers. Sir Paxton was enjoying his opportunity to flirt with the noble ladies. Eventually, the man did take pity on Joren though, knowing that Joren had a challenge in the afternoon the next day. 

Joren had found the one thing that he couldn’t abide these days was hearing someone suggest Kel was less than virtuous. This was his third joust that he had challenged someone to because of an unsavory comment. He was even beginning to think that some conservatives had taken to making them near him and his friends in the hopes of a challenge. He attempted to sleep as late as possible before getting up and going over his gear carefully. 

After he had eaten his noon meal, he let Owen into his tent to help him don his armor. He had taken pity on his fellow squire who felt left out, being unattached. When they arrived, it was to find Cleon, Merric and Kel already on the field observing the jousting. He smiled at her as he joined them, noting that Lord Raoul stood not far away, also prepared for jousting. He also noted the knight whom he had challenged on the other side of the field arrogantly laughing with his friends. 

Joren’s challenge came and went, Joren unseating the knight on the second run and received five gold crowns. When he rejoined his friends after he finished, Kel asked what the challenge was about and Joren gave the banal ‘philosophical discussion’ excuse, not wanting Kel to know that it was about her. They then watched Lord Raoul as he had his exhibition match and then defeated a knight from Tusaine and a conservative. 

“In the old days you could keep the armor and horse of the man you beat,” Owen explained to Kel, the only one who hadn’t seen a tournament before. “Now, most people just pay coin instead.”

“It’s simpler,” Cleon finally spoke for the first time in Joren’s hearing that day. Once they had seen Lord Raoul joust, Joren claimed fatigue and went to clean up and see to his horse and gear again. 

Sir Paxton nodded his approval when he found his squire polishing his armor, “So, does Lady Keladry know that your reason for the joust was to defend her honor?”

“No, and if I have my way, she won’t either. It would just upset her. Mostly because she will think it isn’t worth the fuss, which is ridiculous, of course it is,” Joren didn’t even bother denying his motivations. 

The winter snowed into Stone Mountain had resulted in his mother, uncle, and Knight-Master teaming up on him and subsequently extracting a confession of his feelings for the realm’s only female squire. His mother had decided that she would go out of her way to ingrain herself with the girl’s mother, even if it took time to do so. 

Paxton didn’t argue with his squire, figuring that he knew the girl better than he did. The next day, Cleon and Owen were entered into other competitions so Joren kept Kel company by himself, much to his delight, as she watched Lord Raoul defeat a second Tusaine knight and then Stigand of Fenrigh, a conservative. Kel left with Raoul after the matches to see to his gear and horses so Joren decided to visit with his mother. She promptly demanded he go for a stroll with her. Joren sighed but gave in, knowing she only had a few true friends due to her prolonged isolation.

They had strolled through most of the city of tents when they encountered a small crowd gathered. They paused to see what was causing it and Joren couldn’t help but smile at the sight before him. Kel and the Yamani ladies were tossing a fan around in a circle. Each time one caught the fan they seemed to move gracefully like dancers. Joren doubted the Kel was even aware that she was moving with just as much grace as the Yamani ladies, for all that she was in breeches rather than their elegant kimonos. Suddenly, one of them, the princess, shouted something in Yamani and the way they began throwing the fan around changed, as did their pace and movements, both becoming faster.

Another Yamani command had the pace slow and movements changing again. Joren had recognized what the fan was, having given one to Kel for last Midwinter. He caught a glimpse of Neal as he stepped forward and into the circle, “This is the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. May I play?” The fool requested, he then promptly attempted to catch the fan which had the four women playing and Joren all gasp at the same time. Neal thankfully caught the fan base down and then immediately dropped it in surprise.

“What is this thing?” He demanded, glaring at the fan. 

Joren had to hold back his laughter as one of the Yamani ladies walked over and took the fan from him, “Beware the women of the warrior class, for all they touch is both decorative and deadly.” She then took the fan over to a pile of tent poles and sliced one in half directly in front of Neal before storming into the Princess’s tent.

The other Yamani ladies followed her before Kel began to scold Neal for his carelessness. Neal asked what the fan was and Kel explained, pointing out that she had received one as well and Neal had seen it and the man’s eyes widened in realization. At this point, the queen, who had been a part of the gathered crowd, declared she wanted one. Joren also noted that Lady Alanna was in the crowd, which made sense with Neal being there.

Kel caught herself staring at the Lioness before addressing the queen’s statement, informing her that Princess could easily have one made for her. As the queen disappeared into the tent, Kel whisper-scolded Neal again. As the crowd broke up, Joren decided this was as good a time as any to introduce his mother to Kel as any. He led her up to Kel who finished scolding Neal and let him escape with his Knight-Mistress.

“Kel, may I introduce you to my mother, Lady Verene of Stone Mountain. Mother, this is Lady Squire Keladry of Mindelan,” Joren began without hesitation. 

Kel looked startled but recovered quickly, “Lady Verene, it is a pleasure to meet you. I heard of your recent loss. You have my condolences.”

Verene positively beamed at Kel, “Oh, don’t bother with those. Joren’s father is hardly worth a thought, he never really was. I must say though, that display with the fan was quite spectacular. I must admit, I was startled to realize that a weapon could look so innocent and beautiful. It was quite mesmerizing to watch the whole thing until the interruption at the end.”

“It is a shukusen, a lady fan. It is meant to look innocent but enable a lady to keep herself safe despite its beauty,” Kel offered carefully not to offend, uncertain of where Joren’s mother stood in terms of women with weapons.

“Well, it certainly looks like it could do that job well. What was that dance you and the Yamani ladies were doing with it called?” Verene was nothing but curious.

“It isn’t a dance. It is a game called fan toss. Yamani ladies play it with the shukusen. I learnt it while I lived in the Islands when my parents were ambassadors there,” Kel explained and was startled when she received an understanding nod.

“Yes, your mother is Ilane of Mindelan, formerly of Seabeth and Seajen, correct? She was my sponsor at the convent. I admit, I had wished to renew our friendship but whenever I’ve attempted to locate her in this grand circus, I get turned about,” Verene hinted to Kel. Joren had to hold back a groan. He knew his mother was speaking the truth. He was just wondering why she seemed to be attempting to coerce Kel into taking them. 

Kel smiled and nodded, “Is that so? Well, I can show you to her tent if you’d like. It isn’t far from here.” Joren bit back another groan at Kel giving his mother exactly what she wanted. 

“That would be wonderful, if you don’t mind. Joren be a good gentleman and give the lady your other arm, dear,” His mother instructed him before he knew what was happening.

Joren hesitated, “Mother, Kel is a Squire. I assure you she is not nearly clumsy enough to need assistance through the camp. She is quite skilled at keeping her balance, even on that mountain of a horse of hers.”

Lady Verene immediately swatted her son on the back of the head, “Squire or no, she is still a lady and as such deserves the respect of having the offer at least made. Now, offer her your arm.” She prodded him in the side with the last sentence.

Joren sighed and his cheeks turned a light shade of pink as he did as he was ordered, “Lady Kel, might I offer you my arm as we walk. You will find the ground rather rough in the camp.” He even held out his elbow fully expecting to be both rejected and humiliated in the process. Kel, from what he could tell, never really liked being treated like a ‘fragile female’.

He was startled as she actually placed her hand on his arm, “Certainly. Though, fair warning, if I do stumble, I might take you and your mother down with me.” Kel was smiling wide at him when he looked at her in surprise. She was the same height as him these days and, he realized with surprise, would likely end up being taller than him when she finished growing. 

It unsettled him slightly, but he pushed the thought aside as he allowed Kel to direct them through the camp as she and his mother chatted. The walk was quick, and they found Ilane was, in fact, in her tent. The two of them dragged their children in and forced them to sit with them as they caught up. Joren swiftly felt like the two women were having a minor competition of who could embarrass their child more.

“You know, I had never met Lady Keladry before today, so I only had Joren’s description of her to go on, you know tall, brown hair, hazel eyes, a unique sort of beauty is what he said. I wondered what he meant by unique beauty when he said it, but I think I understand now. It isn’t that kind that stands out in an obvious way, but she really is quite pretty, and I can’t imagine most Tortall noblewomen can manage to look that graceful while tossing about a dangerous weapon either. Though, I suppose she picked up that grace from the Yamani Islands as the Yamani Ladies have a similar grace to them,” Verene commented as she took a sip of the green tea that Ilane had just made for her. “Oh, this is quite lovely. I wonder if it would be possible to get some of this.”

“Yes, the Yamani are rather big on grace with weapons, which one was she throwing about, if I may ask? Also, it is called green tea, it is from the Yamani Islands,” Ilane smiled and glanced at her daughter who was blushing at the complement.

“She saw me with Shinko, Yuki and Lady Haname playing fan toss, Mama,” Kel explained before she could be scolded for being careless with a weapon.

“Ah. Yes, fan toss. I can’t say I am surprised you thought it was graceful, Verene. It’s really quite the sight to see, I admit. I never could get a handle of the game myself but Patricine and Kel both seemed to learn it easily enough. Patricine is my eldest daughter, she married a Yamani nobleman not long after we took the ambassadorship to the Islands. Her husband is Toshuro noh Akaneru, and they…” Ilane went off on a tangent of her grandchildren in the Yamani Islands at this point, Joren and Kel both rolled their eyes and shared a sympathetic look.

It was another half hour before Joren managed to think of an excuse for them to escape with and announced that Kel probably need to get back to feed her charge, a baby griffin and he, as a proper Lord and fellow squire, should probably escort her to her tent. Ilane of Mindelan gave Joren an odd and confused look while Joren’s mother gave him a nod of approval as Kel and Joren got and exited the tent.

Once they had made their escape, Joren and Kel shared a laugh and sigh of relief, “Who knew that our mothers were so close when they were younger?” Kel giggled as they walked through the camp back to her tent. Joren planned on doing as he stated before finding Sir Paxton.

“Mother had mentioned your mother to me before, you know. She talked about her a lot when I was younger, told me how wonderful Lady Ilane was and that she was so lucky to have married for love. I think mother envied her a little. Father kept Mother a virtual prisoner in Stone Mountain and she hated him for it. There was certainly no love lost between them. I’m glad Mother has an opportunity to rekindle an old friendship. It will be good for her,” Joren had started off amused still but had turned serious towards the end.

“Was your father really that bad?” Kel asked suddenly, softly.

“Worse than you probably realize. All the awful things I said to and about you as a Page? I may as well have been parroting him. When I was about five, father practically banned me from seeing Mother for more than meals. He claimed that the reason I was so ‘pretty looking’ was because she was corrupting me and that soon I would be a Nancy-boy. I didn’t really understand until I was older, but they were essentially at war with each other. Anything that my father could use against mother was used,” Joren decided to go with honesty. If he wanted a future, even a distant one, with Kel, he knew he couldn’t have a relationship with her like his father had with his mother. “Mother was rushed into marrying him almost immediately out of the convent and even though she initially tried to make it at least a comfortable marriage, Father was a very narrow-minded man. He only ever felt lust for Mother and even that faded quickly, mother went from indifference to absolute hatred by the time my sisters were born.”

Kel nodded, a puzzle piece of the puzzle that Joren was to her falling into place. They arrived at her tent and he bid her fair-well, the griffin within squawking for his meal. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the summer closed in, the Progress moved south and then east from where Kel had joined. Kel, along with Lord Raoul and a few squads from the Own detached to deliver what were officially called invitations but were really demands from the Royal family for some of the noble houses to host them in expensive banquets. They didn’t rejoin the Progress until they were near Fief Eldorne. They set up another elaborate camp to stay for several days, which was established under the Seneschal’s direction. 

As everyone settled into the weary combination of traveling and banquets, Joren took the opportunity to forge stronger bonds of friendship with Kel and his new group of friends. Zahir was slowly growing closer to some of them too, though the Bazhir was more comfortable with Yancen and Faleron than the rest. Joren found a great deal of pleasure in watching his mother being drawn into Ilane of Mindelan’s circle of friends, all of whom were weapon wielding women in positions of power. 

It tickled his fancy to watch Verene of Stone Mountain holding a practice Glaive for the first time and learn the first movements of the weapon. He knew that Burchard of Stone Mountain would likely roll over in his grave at the idea of arming his wife with a weapon, much less a foreign one. As the Progress moved, Joren found that there were less people, rather suddenly, that were willing to make inappropriate statements about Kel within his earshot. Joren wondered about this but shrugged hoping that it meant that there were less comments being made in general. 

Still, he would enter at least one competition at each stop to get the practice against more experienced opponents. He noticed the Kel didn’t and wondered but figured that it was her choice. He liked the idea of being able to spend more time with her as she watched Raoul joust anyways. She also was happy to cheer him and the others on too when they competed as well. Owen was just happy that Joren kept letting him assist with arming up for the jousts. 

For weeks, things seemed like one event after another that the squires had to serve at. The monotony was disrupted when they reached Fief Sinthya and Kel finally got an opportunity to meet her hero, Lady Alanna. Kel seemed to glow at the end of it. When he inquired on what the conversation was about, Kel told him the Lady Alanna had suggested that Kel might teach her how to use the glaive when she became a knight. 

She told them all this while they watched her feed the griffin, all of them keeping a respectful distance from the creature. Most of such meetings were just keeping Owen from losing hope of ever gaining a Knight-Master. This night Owen talked about how Sir Myles was looking for a secretary and how that seemed to be the only option he had to escape Master Oakbridge.

This led to a more general discussion on Knight-Masters, “At least Myles won’t bite your head off if you venture a comment of your own. There’s a lot to be said for a good-natured knight-master.” They all knew that Neal was referring to Lady Alanna’s temper. As they had occasionally trained in a group under her guidance, they knew he wasn’t exaggerating either. 

“Mine’s a decent sort,” Cleon added, referring to Kel’s older brother Inness. “Explains things, doesn’t expect you to read his mind. I’d best get back. He’s in the archery competitions tomorrow and I think his bowstring is fraying.”

Cleon and the others exited at this point. Joren lingering for a little longer to venture one comment to Kel on his knight-master, “Personally, I got lucky with mine. The path I was on before… I might have ended up being like Vinson or maybe even worse.”

“Looking at who you are now and how your mother is, I find that hard to believe,” Kel smiled at him and shook her head. 

Joren fought to keep his fear from his face and managed a grimace instead, “We will have to agree to disagree on this. I know a little bit more of how I thought before I got reality pounded into my head.” With this he left, not knowing he had left a very bewildered Kel behind. 

She had no way of knowing that Joren was thinking of his upcoming Ordeal, now less than half a year away, and the vision he had seen of his fate if he hadn’t changed paths. He fervently prayed that his change had been enough because even if it felt real, that didn’t mean he necessarily had changed the necessary part that the Chamber would find flawed enough to kill him for it. After all, all he had to go on what the Trickster’s books that he had gotten.

The next day, Joren was walking back from a visit with his mother and younger brother when he overheard an argument. It sounded like it was in the middle and he thought he recognized a few of the voices but held back, uncertain of what to do when he heard Kel’s voice suddenly pop up. 

“You speak against our knight-master. You must be shown the error of your ways,” Kel’s voice was crisp and Joren couldn’t help but smile at the strength it demonstrated. “And Vinson’s no highwayman, just a kidnapper. If it’s the lists you want, you shall have them. I am a squire, and I want satisfaction from you.”

Joren peaked around a tent to see Kel standing there in strength offering her hand out to a man that Joren thought might have been in the Own, “I can defend myself!” The man snapped, pushing her hand away. Joren bristled at the treatment the man had shown Kel, especially after she had stood up for him. 

“I’m not concerned for you. For starters, he maligned Lord Raoul. If he weren’t a coward, he’d also name those he says are ‘dazzled by female flesh’… my flesh? Commander Tourakom’s? Or the Champion’s, the queen’s, do you suppose? Since he doesn’t want to pay for his words, he hides behind his shield. Except now he can’t. If he refuses to meet me in the lists, everyone will know what he is.” 

“I am Sir Ansil of Groten,” the knight snapped arrogantly. He was in his thirties from what Joren could guess. “You will have your meeting, squire. When you lie in the dirt with my lance through your body, all will see what happens when men do the right thing. Tomorrow, at the individual matches. I will enter our names with the tournament clerk.” 

He stalked away from Kel and towards where Joren watched. Joren ducked to hide, fury raging and holding him frozen once he was hidden. Fury at both his own cowardice from not calling out the man himself and at Ansil of Groten for even suggesting he would kill Kel. Behind him, another knight and Vinson trailed behind him, Vinson smirking at Kel as he walked away.

Joren silently listened as Kel reassured and scolded the man she had come to the defense of as they walked away. Eventually, Joren managed to unfreeze. He figured that he would just challenge Groten and beat him if Kel lost. She didn’t have to know what the challenge was about. He dusted his breeches off and headed towards the lists, planning on checking them to see what else was going on tomorrow so he could pretend that was how he knew about the jousting match. 

When he got there, Ansil of Groten was running off on how he was planning on decimating Kel the next morning and Cleon was listening in horror. The red head looked ready to storm off and find Kel before Joren caught him and convinced Cleon to allow him to talk to Kel. Cleon looked put out at first but a knowing look from Joren had the other caving. 

“Fine, but make sure you tell her that I don’t like it, not one bit. On a side note. What are you waiting for?” Cleon eyed Joren in annoyance. “I can’t believe you still haven’t made your move yet. You haven’t, have you? I would have thought that it would be obvious if a change in your relationship if you had.”

Joren hesitated, leading Cleon away from the crowds at the lists, “I sort of have, sort of haven’t. It is complicated. I don’t want her to think that I would pressure her to give up on her Knighthood or force her into something she doesn’t want.”

“Do you really think that Kel would let anyone push her into something she didn’t want?” Cleon asked skeptically. “Are you sure you aren’t hesitating because you’re afraid?”

“That is exactly why I am hesitating. I have been spending the last three years trying to prove to her and all our friends that I am not the same person I was when I was a page. That I’m no longer friends with people like Vinson or Garvey or Quintin. I don’t want to undo all of that because I misspoke or was misunderstood. I don’t just like her, I love her. She is strong and beautiful and kind and probably the most impressive woman in our country and it pisses me off when I think that people like Vinson or Groten would dare threaten her, but I know she can handle it. It is blasted confusing,” Joren ranted a little to Cleon’s sympathetic ear. 

When Joren finished, Cleon decided to give him a little nudge in the right direction, “Fine, if you won’t tell her. I will. I will go to her tent right now and tell her that you are in love with her and being an idiot about it because you don’t want to interfere with her goal of obtaining a knighthood.”

Joren looked at Cleon in shock, “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me. You pointed out to me that I would never be able to be with her because of this damned betrothal to Ermelian of Aminar. If I can’t be with her, better someone that I know will have her back and respect her right to her knighthood. I doubt there are many others who would. Now go. And talk to her about jousting Ansil of Groten too. He is a full knight, she had to be mad to have challenged him,” Cleon glared at Joren. Joren didn’t bother arguing with the Cleon, the other Squire was much bigger than he and he didn’t want to risk a fistfight. 

Instead, Joren left, heading towards where Kel and Lord Raoul’s tents were positioned in the camp. When he reached it, he hesitated briefly before walking in. He decided to start with the jousting, “Kel, so you have finally decided to joust? Against a full knight too. He is claiming you challenged him, you know.”

“Oh, well, I had to. The man’s a bully. He insulted my lord,” Kel gave him a weak smile and received a nod in response.

“So, naturally you couldn’t allow such an offense to stand unchallenged. I get it. You should know he is asking a winner’s purse of ten gold crowns,” Joren continued a little more seriously after teasing a little. He wanted to put her at ease though.

“I have the money from Vinson, or I guess since, apparently, his family stole that money from you, I have it from you. I still feel bad about that you know. But, anyways, I can pay if I lose,” Kel shrugged as she finished with the birds and turned to face Joren. 

He couldn’t help admiring her as she had been working with the dishes, her back turned and he had gotten caught staring. She blushed lightly before turning again and grabbing her breastplate and a polishing cloth, “I have to go over my gear.” She mumbled awkwardly.

Joren, uncertain of why she was uncomfortable, grabbed another cloth and another part of her armor, planning on helping her. He then remembered Cleon’s threat and decided that the red head did have a tendency to actually do things he threatened to. He set the armor and cloth aside and then went to close the flap of Kel’s tent, startling her.

She flushed an even deeper red as he tugged the breastplate from her as she was already sitting on her cot, “There was… well… oh, blast I’ll just come out and say it. I like you, Kel.” Joren’s face was a flushed pink as he sat next to her on the cot and ran his hand through the white blond hair.

Kel looked at him with her jaw hanging open, unable to respond. She then dropped he head, trying to hide a further blush, “Kel, please look at me.” Joren’s voice was tight now, half in panic that she would reject him like he was expecting and half in hope that she wouldn’t.

He was surprised when she heeded his request and immediately burst into a smile of relief. He decided that since he was going out on a limb already, he might as well go all in and he pressed his lips to hers gently. He was in a full moment of bliss before slowly pulling away.

His voice cracked as he spoke again, “That wasn’t bad, was it? Neither of us burst into flames, nor did the tent. Even the animals don’t seem to have an objection.” He went on hoarsely, hoping she wasn’t about to punch him.

When she didn’t, he kissed her again. This time she seemed to melt into his arms before suddenly stiffening. Joren immediately let her go, “Sorry, if I am pushing. I…I’ve just been thinking about this for a while.” He stuttered a little, nervous still.

“You have?” Kel’s voice trembled a little. “This isn’t some elaborate prank?”

Joren flushed again. Once upon a time it could have been but not now. He shook his head, “I’ve wanted to kiss you for a while. I just didn’t want you to think I would interfere with you getting your knighthood. It’s why I hesitated.”

“Oh,” Kel whispered softly. She seemed to relax a little at that, so Joren couldn’t resist kissing her again.

“Kel?” Lord Raoul’s voice sounded from outside the tent and Joren sprang away, mostly because he knew she would be embarrassed by this if others knew. He immediately grabbed one of her armor pieces and began polishing it, a flush still on his face.

When Raoul had entered, Kel had also had her breastplate back in hand, “Joren of Stone Mountain, isn’t it? Aren’t you two hot in here with the flap closed? Kel, someone put your name on the boards for tilting tomorrow.”

“That’s right,” Kel replied as she opened her front flap before retrieving her breastplate again and began going over it. “I had a philosophical discussion with Ansil of Groten. We couldn’t resolve our differences, so we decided to settle it with the lance.”

Joren couldn’t help but smile at her response. It was the same excuse any other squire would have used. He silently wondered if she always took those kinds of considerations with her responses. 

“Well, come into my tent when you have a moment,” Raoul had responded. “We’ve some points to discuss. Stone Mountain.”

As the knight went back to his tent, Joren knew he had been dismissed. He smiled weakly at Kel, “If Lord Raoul is giving you advice, I had best go line up a healer for Ansil of Groten. Perhaps some no-nonsense healer that will make him recover even if his ego is completely broken after being decimated by ‘the Girl’.” Joren teased to help her relax.

She giggled, which was his intent before he tugged her into a corner of the tent that couldn’t be seen from outside and kissed her one last time, this one a little stronger than the rest. He figured that she would likely come to her senses in a few hours and hunt him down to kill him anyways, so he had best enjoy it while he had the chance. He prayed that whatever Lord Raoul would inevitably say wouldn’t make it worse. Instead of waiting for his doom that day, Joren retreated to his tent and decided to dwell on the pleasant thoughts of getting to kiss her for the first time. He briefly wondered if it was her first kiss and secretly hoped it was. He realized he was getting sappy however, so instead he pulled out the book on courting lady knights out and started reading it from the beginning. 

He later only briefly saw Kel while they were at service that evening, each times their eyes met they both blushed, but they didn’t get a chance to talk at all. Cleon gave him a knowing look and both he and Neal dragged Joren off later for an interrogation. After getting a brief overview of the situation, both recommended giving Kel a day or so to get her thoughts sorted out. Joren willingly accepted the advice, hoping that it would work out in his favor, after all, she had been given space so far and hadn’t murdered him yet.


	12. Autumn 457

The next morning Joren spent reading more about how to court Lady Knights. Sir Paxton managed to catch a glimpse of the book but chose not to comment, shaking his head in amusement instead. The knight briefly wondered where his squire got the book, but it was obvious what the book was for. Around noon, Neal and Cleon dragged Joren out of his tent finally. They were all going to see the jousting in support of Kel. The day was beautiful, the wind blowing strongly off Lake Naxen. 

Joren found the situation odd as he sat in the stands with Jump perched in his lap and the sparrows crowding on him. Neal laughed, “You know, I think they have claimed you as theirs.” Joren scowled at the smirk on the older squire’s face but didn’t comment. He chose instead to watch the field as Kel moved Peachblossom onto the field.

The herald went up to Kel and spoke to her. Joren watched intently as she nodded, and the herald move away from her. Her monster of a horse shifted and stamped the ground as she moved over to her lane. She mounted him and then took her helm to put on. Joren watched in surprise when the trumpet blared and Peachblossom shot foreword like a hell hound was after him. She brought her lance down just before Ansil of Groten did.

Her lance shattered on impact with the Ansil’s shield. Joren narrowed his eyes in suspicion at the lance breaking so easily. Kel apparently seemed to suspect the same because she seemed to check the second lance carefully before the field monitor spoke to her. Whatever was said seemed to reassure her as she smiled at him before returning to her lane.

She had to wait while Ansil’s friends behaved in a celebratory manner as if he had already won. Once he moved into place the trumpeter gave the signal again and once more Kel’s horse stormed down the field with determination. This time, when Kel’s lance hit the knight’s shield, the man popped out of the saddle and slammed into the ground. 

Joren couldn’t help smiling with pride as field monitors and a healer surrounded the fallen knight. Kel moved away from the rearing stallion before the knight finally got to his feet slowly with the aid of Vinson and the Tirrsmont knight that Joren had seen with them the day before. Kel had dismounted by this point and approached. 

Their exchange was longer than it should have been given the circumstances. They glared at Kel when she thumped him with her lance, probably because the knight was being stupid, Joren guessed. He seemed to snarl something out. 

Finally, she led Peachblossom away from the man and was stopped by a monitor. Her face seemed to flush a little as she waved him off and left the field. She had glanced to the stands and Joren looked in the direction she was staring. Not far away, he saw Sir Gareth the Younger counting out coins into Lord Raoul’s hand. Lord Raoul looked particularly smug and Joren figured the man probably had a right to be as well. He was the one who had went through extensive jousting lessons with her.

Joren and the others left the stands after this, finding quite a bit of amusement over the idea that Raoul had bet Kel would win and based on how many coins changed hands, a fair amount too. Joren allowed temptation to win out in the end, despite Neal and Cleon’s advice and went to look for Kel to ensure that she was still fine. 

He found her in a tree. He debated talking to her from the ground but decided to go up to her instead, so they could have privacy. Once he started to climb up to her, he smiled at the ridiculousness of the situation, “So, you’re alright? No missing limbs from climbing the big scary tree?” He teased to ease his tension from worrying about her. He didn’t want to question her abilities as he knew she was good enough to beat Groten even before the match. 

“Ha ha, very funny. I’m not injured, if you’re worried. He was overconfident, and I won, so the gods must have thought I was right. Otherwise they’d have made me lose. You know how trial by combat works.”

“You won because you were better at jousting than he is, Kel. Though, judging by who was with him, I can guess what provoked you and you probably proved him wrong by knocking him out of the saddle, so it is a moot point,” Joren settled onto a branch slightly higher than hers and spaced just far enough away that he wasn’t directly in her face either. “Can I kiss you now?”

Kel blushed a little, “We should probably talk about that. Lord Raoul gave me a lecture about the difficulties of women in combat if they take lovers.” She elaborated on what Raoul had said and by the end Joren smiled a little to goofily. 

“He’s right. We should be careful about all of that. We’ll definitely have to maintain your good name too,” Joren nodded, still smiling brightly.

“Do I have one?” Kel asked skeptically as she eyed him. They both knew that he had once suggested otherwise.

“You do with your friends and you’d better with anyone who speaks with us,” His tone was slightly ominous as he said the last. 

Kel looked at him, surprised. She sometimes forgot that Joren wasn’t always a part of their group like he had. This conversation brought it to the forefront, but it also illustrated how far Joren had come from his days as a page, “I don’t deserve my friends.” She finally commented quietly.

“Sure, you do. You are probably the only reason the lot of them made it past being Pages. Besides, I know that you preformed those inspections for them during the testing. They would have looked like disheveled morons otherwise,” Joren laid on the complements thick. He then glanced down and around to ensure no one was around before stealing a quick peck on her cheek.

This made her grin and blush a little more. A grumbling noise made her look at her stomach and remark, “I’m hungry.”

“Me too. And I do believe my mother would have me hanged if I failed to attend to the needs of her best friend’s daughter,” Joren smiled as he began to climb down. “Never mind the Lady I am courting.”

To Joren’s relief, she didn’t refute it. Instead Kel followed him down and they went to join their friends. While they ate, a servant brought a note to Kel, inviting her to joust the next day with Sir Voelden of Tirrsmont. This was a match and Kel refused it quickly. As the group returned to camp, Voelden stopped them and slapped Kel lightly with a riding glove.

Neal and Cleon had to hold Joren back while Owen held Merric back. Kel glared at Voelden, “I accept. Ten gold crowns if you lose.” Joren resisted the urge to roll his eyes and Neal and Cleon let him go, comfortable that Joren wouldn’t attempt to kill the man now. 

Joren and Kel wandered away from the others after they exited the castle. Joren was counting himself lucky for the few quick kisses he got while they hid in shadows, even if they were interrupted, still he couldn’t help but wish for a little more.

“It’s like having a train of chaperons,” Kel sighed, startling Joren but voicing what he was thinking. They had reached her tent and he smiled. 

“My thoughts exactly. Doesn’t anyone sleep?” Joren half-grumbled.

Kel smiled at his sweetly. It was a smile that Joren was quickly beginning to love as much as the lady who wore the smile, “Sleeping is what I need to be doing. I have a griffin to care for and a challenge tomorrow.” She pointed out.

Joren sighed, knowing there were nobles all around, returning from the banquet, “Well, I wouldn’t dare interfere with your much-needed rest, my lady. Send him flying tomorrow.”

With this, he gave her one last wistful look and left for his own tent. If his future was set in stone in terms of the Ordeal, then at least he will have kissed the girl of his dreams. That was if he hadn’t done enough to change his fate. Now, he would dream of her. 

The next day, the group of friends watched once more from the stands. As Kel moved into the lane for the match, the baby griffin in her care flew onto the field and perched on the wooden barrier blocking the two lanes from each other. He screeched and Kel seemed to address him before lowering her visor and indicated that she was ready. 

With the trumpet call, she flew down the lane with the same intense speed as the day before. This one seemed more normal as they struck each other and then swerved and returned to their original ends. The griffin shrieked again as she passed him. The stands were quiet now, the griffin unnerving many of the spectators. So quiet, you could hear the birds that had been disturbed by him. Voelden’s stallion was unnerved as well and reared. Apparently, the only animal that the griffin didn’t bother was Peachblossom. 

As they made the second pass, something odd happened, Kel sent Voelden’s shield flying off his arm but Kel jerked back unnaturally. Joren paled as he noticed the dent now in Kel’s armor. A man closer to the field already called out “Foul!” and the people in the stands began shouting their outrage. Then Peachblossom tried to lung for the knight across the barrier but Kel reigned the gelding in.

She eventually managed to turn the horse and get back to the starting point. She got water and a new lance from the field monitor and seemed to talk to him briefly as he passed her the lance. She shook her head and then returned to her lane. They made the third pass, both lances shattered, then Kel did something with her shield and seemed to yank him out of his saddle and he hit the ground. The noise this induced was nearly ear shattering. Joren had to stand on his seat in order to see over the heads of the rest of the already standing crowds. Kel had drawn her sword and used it now to lift his visor before pointing it at the man’s nose. 

Her lips moved and then Voelden raised his hand and his lips moved. Kel spoke again before sheathing her sword and walking away from the man, back towards Peachblossom. She led her giant mount back down the field as people cheered. Joren nudged Cleon and then Neal before he started chanting. The chant caught on with the rapid crowd mentality, “Mindelan! Mindelan!” Followed Kel off the field before a group of women, the Queen, Kel’s mother and Joren’s own mother included, circled her, and dragged her off. 

Joren and his friends worked their way out of the crowd slowly and after some effort found out that Kel had been taken to the Queen’s tent. When they reached it, they heard Ilane of Mindelan threaten Kel with a fan if she fought the healer. When Verene of Stone Mountain came out of the tent, she scolded them, telling them that Kel wouldn’t be available for the rest of the day after her healing and shooed them away. 

Joren reluctantly allowed Cleon to drag him off so he could vent some of his frustration over Kel being hurt rather than hunting Voelden of Tirrsmont down and running him through with a sword. Cleon made him run three full laps around the perimeter of the camp, fully exhausting him before freeing him to go rest. Joren briefly contemplated the idea of challenging Tirrsmont and running the man through with a lance of his own but dismissed the idea as he knew that Kel wouldn’t like it.

The next day was one of rest, Joren was thankful for it because it meant, no one was going to try to run Kel through. He even managed to sleep in late. When he did wake and eat, he decided to probe his mother for information on Kel’s injuries and went to her tent. He wasn’t surprised to find her already waiting for his arrival and demanding a walk with him by the lake shore as payment for the information. This was a small price to pay so he immediately offered her his arm.

Lady Verene smiled and took it. She was a little bit smug that her son had turned out such a gentleman when compared to his father. She may have suffered for years in the silent war that had occurred, but in the end, she was the victor. As a result, she had a son she could be proud of, fittingly this also meant her son was the exact opposite from what Burchard had wanted. 

As they approached the lake, two adult griffins flew overhead. Joren frowned in concern and ordered his mother to go back to her tent. He then ran towards the lake. He froze when he saw the baby griffin being released by Kel and happily trotting over to and began twining around one of them. 

“Please, lady, gently,” An eagle that had been facing away from him but perched close to Kel spoke with a human voice and Joren realized that it was the wild-mage Daine talking as the eagle moved in a manner that would be unusual for a normal bird. “No need to shout. It hurts.”

Eventually the eagle removed its wings from its head and spoke again, “They gave me their names, but I can’t pronounce them. The brindled one is his father. The copper one is his mother. They thank you for all you’ve done. I told them you had been searching for them all this time, through me. I also told them you killed the centaur who was going to keep him.”

Looking at the griffins as he approached slowly, Joren was a bit awed by the creatures. He came to stand just behind Kel who glanced back at him and gave him a brief smile before redirecting her attention to the griffins. The father reached his head over the mother’s wings and worked a bag loose of its ties with his beak and dropped it in front of Kel. 

“This is just a token, they say,” Daine spoke again, Joren could now see that where an eagle’s head should have been, a human head was instead, it was even more unnerving to him than the griffins were. “They can’t really thank you for what you did, but they know humans value their feathers.”

They pulled a loose feather from the baby griffin and he let out a squawk of protest. Daine spoke again, “They say he has learned bad habits. They never allow a young one to make so much noise.” After this, the griffin parents traded looks before nodding to Daine and Kel, Joren was probably insignificant to them. The father took hold of the baby griffin by the scruff of his neck and then took flight. The mother joined and soon they were just specks.

“Before they are out of range and their effects wear off, I really do like you and I am serious about my feelings,” Joren blurted to Kel, startling the eagle that was Daine in the process.

Kel sniffed and then chuckled a little, “I know that silly. There was a baby griffin in the tent when you first said it. This is ridiculous. He is with his own kind. I didn’t even like him.” Kel sniffed again before accepting the handkerchief that Joren held out for her.

“You did the right thing,” Eagle-Daine said.

Kel nodded slowly, “It’s a weight off my mind, or it will be. You get used to anything- Well, maybe you don’t.” Kel retracted her statement looking at the odd hybridization of bird and human.

Daine chuckled and shifted her head back to that of an eagle’s before taking flight. 

“Well that’s that, the sparrows will be thrilled that he is gone,” Kel remarked to Joren as she collected the bathing things and Joren grabbed the bag for her. He walked with her to the tent. 

When they reached it, he pulled her from the view of the outside world and pressed a deep kiss on her lips, “I nearly had a heart attack when I saw those griffins flying overhead, especially after Tirrsmont trying to spear you through yesterday and not getting to see you afterwards. I am relieved you’re alright.” With this, he left her to look at what was in bag from the griffins and to get rid of the mass of baggage that she would no longer need.

Joren went back to his mother’s tent to receive a scowl from her. He explained what had happened, reminding her that Kel had been caring for a baby griffin while its parents were located. Verene’s anger dissipated with the knowledge that her son had sent her back to her tent to keep her safe while he had rushed off to aid Lady Keladry. Joren then proceeded to give his mother her walk along the shore along with a description of the entire encounter to appease any lingering upset she might have had.

The progress moved on from Fief Naxen and Joren had to sit by and watch as Kel was offered matches at every stop they made. Kel stopped refusing them when it became obvious that doing so meant challenges instead. The majority of her opponents were knights with a few squires. Vinson had thankfully, at least on the surface, kept his distance. It was pointed out to him that almost all of them were conservatives. 

Joren made a point of attending all the matches and noted that some of the knights that Kel had tilted against were obviously offering apologies of some sort and he became firmly convinced that It was likely Vinson’s doing. When they reached Fief Bylthdin, just outside of Corus, they were given a temporary reprieve of banquet service as the Pages were allowed to observe tournaments and provided the services.   
On the second night of the tournament, Kel and Joren stopped so she could read the board that listed the next day’s proposed matches. If someone wanted out of a match, he had until midnight to change the listings.  
“I’m on again,” Kel murmured. Joren held out a torch from a nearby lane so that she could read it properly in the dark.

“What a surprise,” Joren teased. Kel was probably gaining more experience with the lance during the Progress than most knights got in their first five years after getting their shields. 

Kel’s mouth fell open as she read her opponent’s name, “You’d better see the coffin maker and order me a box.” She told Joren as he looked at the board himself.

“Lord Wyldon isn’t going to kill you. He can’t be worse than Lord Raoul,” Joren nudged her in reminder. He knew he could have teased and said something inappropriate but chose not to. 

Kel sighed before nudging him in return, “I’d best turn in early. I’ll need all the rest I can get before he pounds me into the mud.”

Joren couldn’t help but smile at this, “Oh, I don’t think he will go too over the top. He doesn’t hate you anymore.” He let her lead the way through the camp as they made their way back to her tent. 

“Just because he doesn’t dislike me doesn’t mean he won’t pound me into the mud,” Kel replied. 

Joren hesitated to respond, knowing she was probably right before he finally smirked, “There isn’t any mud on the ground. It hasn’t rained recently.” He proclaimed in triumph. 

Kel chuckled a little as she let him tug her into a dark corner with no one around, “Nice try, dirt will probably hurt worse.” Kel smiled as Joren kissed her with a slight passion. 

“For luck. Also, it will still be easier to clean your armor after the joust then if it were muddy,” He pressed one more kiss to her lips before allowing her to escape to her tent. 

Joren rolled his eyes the next morning when he saw that it had rained during the night. He almost suspected that it was the Trickster’s doing. Sir Paxton sat with Lord Wyldon’s wife while Joren joined his and Kel’s friends to watch the match. The herald barely wasted any time speaking to Kel before riding off the field. At the first pass, both their lances shattered but Joren smirked at Kel having kept her seat so far. The second pass had the same results as the first, two shattered lances and Kel still on her horse. Joren couldn’t help but smile. Most full knights would be on the ground by this point. 

Joren and his friends groaned in sympathy when she came out of the saddle on the third pass. As she sat up from the mud, Lord Wyldon approached and spoke to her for a few minutes. Joren smirked, knowing that the training master was likely taking a little pride in the fact that he had started Kel’s training in jousting. Lord Raoul was waiting for her off the field but Kel seemed no worse for the wear, despite going three rounds with Lord Wyldon.


	13. Winter 457/458

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joren's Ordeal finally arrives

When the Progress finally returned to the palace, it was just before the start of midwinter. Joren was in a way both terrified and relieved that the time had finally come. He knew well that these could easily be his last days alive. Neal and Cleon had both shown him a great deal of sympathy, understanding his fears. That said, they were also less worried than he thought they should be over the matter. Neal made a bit of sense, since he had a couple of years before he reached his ordeal. Cleon, Joren could only assume, was more at ease because he had no potential premonition of his death during the Ordeal hanging over his head. 

“Think of it this way. At least you don’t have to go first or last. That would be uncomfortable,” Cleon commented, his was the first night of Midwinter. “Though, to be fair. I have no time to really get worked up about it.” 

Kel, Joren and Neal spent the day with Cleon to help him remain calm. Lord Raoul was helping Kel’s brother with Cleon’s instructions during the bath. They visited Raven Armory and Joren nodded subtly at one of the smiths while Cleon commented wistfully about his wish to have one of the swords. He remarked that it was too expensive though and commented on how maybe if he was a good enough knight for the crown, he might earn a purse big enough to buy one. 

Joren felt slightly smug over his Midwinter gift to his first real friend besides Zahir. The sword he had commissioned for Cleon had already been handed over to the Lady of Kennan to be presented to him after he was knighted. It was a congratulatory and midwinter gift that he had no intention of allowing Cleon to reject. His friend had pushed him to move to admit his feeling to Kel sooner and he would be forever grateful for the time he has had so far, even if he didn’t survive his ordeal. It was the least he could do for such a true friend.

They headed back to the palace as the sky began to darken. Joren was a bit relieved that there would be no formal parties this year, too many people were sick of it due to the excess during the Progress that would continue all too soon. They parted ways with Cleon once they reached the palace and Joren and Kel kept each other company until Raoul returned from giving the instructions. They were joined a short while later by Prince Roald, Princess Shinko, Inness, Buri, Neal, Yuki, Jerel of Nenan, who was Garvey’s knight-master, and Owen. 

Everyone had brought food and they talked late into the night. Once everyone else had left, Joren reluctantly kissed Kel good night, a long, sound kiss before slowly pulling away and leaving her to get what little sleep she could. The late night didn’t prevent Joren from waking early and going to the Chapel of Ordeal, holding Kel’s hand as they waited for the door to open. Kel seemed more nervous than Joren so he was happy to provide what comfort he could. He had to hide his smile at the sparrows in her lap. It was just like Kel to seek hidden comfort in her animals. 

When the door opened with a clank, Inness hurried forward and caught Cleon as he waivered on his way out of the Chamber. Joren was unsettled by the sight before him. Cleon had a good strong character, always stood by what was right. He looked like he had been through the gauntlet, pale, sweaty, and shaking. Joren knew that Cleon had always stood a better chance than him. He could only pray to survive it himself, even if he was a little worse for the wear.

Cleon was knighted at sunset. As Joren expected, he had attempted to refuse the sword that Joren had given him on the grounds it was too expensive. Joren had reminded him that he would need the very best if he was going to bring Kennan to new heights. Cleon gave him a weak glare before reluctantly accepting the sword and hugging Joren awkwardly. 

That night, Joren and Sir Paxton were invited to a small party held by Lord Raoul, on the grounds that they were more fun than the formal stuffy ones. Joren had happily accepted, relieved to escape the reminder that that night Vinson was going through his Ordeal. Joren slipped into Kel’s room during the party, hoping she would follow, and he could have a few minutes of privacy with her. She did, and he gave her a fierce hug and some heavy kissing. Joren did stop when it became a little too impassioned though and with good timing as Jump, Kel’s dog, nudged the door open further. He gave her one last light kiss before returning to the party.

In the morning, Joren woke before dawn and debated going to the Chapel. He eventually decided against it, knowing that if something were to happen, word would go through the palace at lightning speed. He was right too. Before he could even go to breakfast, Sir Paxton came for him and told him that Vinson had asked for an audience with Turomot present. 

Joren sighed, having some inkling of what could be to come. He was already dressed, so they went immediately to the Great Throne Room. A tired looking Kel and Raoul joined them a short while later. Kel’s parents were already nearby and Kel’s former maid was there as well. Shortly after this, the King, Queen and their two eldest children entered from a door behind the dais. Joren and Kel both looked over to where Vinson’s family and knight-master stood. Garvey was nearby but didn’t seem willing to stand with them. Joren rose an eyebrow at this but realized Garvey was likely distancing himself from a potential scandal. The Genlith name was already on shaky grounds after what had been revealed of Vinson’s uncle and the family was in danger of financial ruin as well.

The Monarchs sat, Turomot of Wellam nodded to the guards and Vinson was announced, though not even before the herald finished, Vinson had rushed into the room and collapsed before the dais. The squire was openly crying and still wore the clothing from his vigil. This had Joren visibly shaken. Vinson looked like he had been beaten brutally. Even as he knelt before the monarchs, more bruises appeared along his visible skin. 

“I have a confession! I must-confess. I confess. Two years ago, there-there was trouble in the Lower City. Two-two slum wenches, no better than- NO!” Vinson paused, looking as if he were defending himself against an invisible attacker. “No! I meant, two girls of the Lower City were attacked, beaten. A third was- must I say it? A third was beaten and raped. I did it. Sir Nualt had no knowledge. None. He’d have denounced me if he’d known. I didn’t- the women made me angry. They’re teases, leading a man…“

Vinson collapsed to the ground with a scream, marks appearing and fading across his skin. The King reached out with his magic, it falling over Vinson before speaking, “He tells the truth.” 

“Tell the Chamber I confessed,” Vinson begged, raising his face. “Tell it I did what it wanted me to. Make it let me go! Make it stop hurting me!”

The Queen’s voice and face were hard as she spoke, “The Chamber is commanded by no one, Vinson of Genlith. It will release you as it chooses.”

At this point, Duke Turomot came forward and ordered guards to take Vinson away and then addressed his family. The Genlith family bowed and curtsied before hurrying after the guards taking Vinson away. Joren glanced at Kel and saw that she was conflicted before she ran off. Joren wanted to follow but was held back by Sir Paxton. The man insisted Joren write a written statement for the courts of what he had witnessed. Joren reluctantly did so, omitting that Lalasa was the maid attacked. He would admit it to Turomot in person if necessary but only in private. 

When he finished writing the statement as quickly as possible, Joren went to seek Kel out. She wasn’t in her rooms, maids who had been cleaning there informed him that she had come and gone, dressed warmly and left holding a funny looking bow. This was enough information to have him retrieving a coat of his own and headed for the archery yard. He met Buri on his way there.

The woman nodded to him and followed him without a word as they reached the edge of the archery field. Kel was indeed shooting an odd-looking long bow. Buri was the one to speak though, “When one of my Riders said there was a crazy woman out here with a stripy bow, I thought he was pulling a fool’s gambit on his old commander. I thought only our Yamani lilies shot those things.”

“I used to,” Kel answered, looking at them both finally.

“I don’t see how they can ride without the horses tripping over the bow,” Buri climbed over the fence. “When will you try out recurves? You won’t want a longbow after that.”

“Once we’re on progress, maybe,” Kel offered weakly. “I just wanted to get out.”

“What’s wrong?” When the woman asked, Joren grimaced, knowing exactly what upset Kel. “You walked out of that throne room as if you’d seen your death.”

Kel looked reluctant to speak, “I don’t think I can say.” She glanced at Joren who walked over and hugged her around the shoulder in support.

“Sure you can,” Buri contradicted. “Leave out names if you like, though anyone who knows you can tell it has to do with Lalasa. He attacked her, didn’t he?”

Joren raised an eyebrow at Buri hitting the nail on the head. The whole story came out then. Kel even explained how Joren had offered to report Vinson in a roundabout way which earned him an approving nod from Buri. Buri got Kel to calm by trying Kel’s bow before unstringing it and put the arrows away. She then dragged Kel and Joren to the Rider mess. 

The older woman retrieved drinks for them both after seating them at an empty table. The mess wasn’t very full, and most of those present weren’t fully awake. When Buri returned with a tray of hot cider, Joren was a little relieved, Kel’s hands were like ice. Joren and Kel drank, Kel slowly thawing out from the heat of the drink, to Joren’s relief. 

Buri finally decided to set Kel straight on the views of most of the court, “Were you not listening when they told you that a noble who kidnapped a maid only owed a fine? The mistress of chambermaids used to call the palace cleaning women ‘sluts.’ Thayet made her stop, but it’s coppers to a Midwinter bun that she still does, and that any maid who tells her majesty will lose her place.” Buri shoved a Midwinter bun in front of each of them before starting on one herself.

“You’re an idealist, Kel. I’ve noticed that about you. See, I try to beat idealism out of Rider trainees. It just ruins their ability to give a fair report. So long as there are nobles and commoners, the wealthy, and the poor, those with power will be heard, and those without ignored. That’s the world,” Buri finished bluntly.

“I don’t accept that,” Kel’s grim expression couldn’t stop Joren from smiling a little. It was so like Kel to have facts shoved in her face and still rebel against them. He was pretty certain it was part of what made him love her. Her stubbornness had, in a way, broken his arrogance even more than Kyprioth could. 

Joren was just as startled by Buri’s response as Kel was though, “I didn’t say you should. Three nights a week, your Lalasa closes her shop early. She teaches city girls- commoners- holds, blows, and kicks that will help them to escape attackers. She learned that somewhere. It does those girls more good than you courting frostbite to shoot a bow you don’t even like. There’s now a demand for arms teachers for young noblewomen. Seven female Riders this year asked me for references to get them such posts. I might also remind you that a particular law is being revised right now because you had the nerve to tell King Jonathan that it should be changed.”

“We still should have reported Vinson directly to the Temple of the Goddess,” Kel remarked stubbornly.

“Very well, you should have. Next time you will. And just remember, no court in the land could put him through what he did to those girls. The Chamber did. I’ve seen the marks of beatings. The Chamber is making him feel every blow, kick, and punch he doled out. I bet it will even continue for a while,” Buri paused to eat a second bun. “The world is imperfect, Kel. But you are doing more than your fair share to set it right. Next time report it. Even if nothing is done because the one reported is too powerful, a record will be made. When he does it again, the record will show he won’t stop.”

“To be fair. There already was a record of sorts. Lord Wyldon couldn’t do anything about it,” Joren pointed out. 

“Then stop wallowing in guilt. You take chivalry too seriously. Just like Raoul. It’s sweet in an impractical way,” Buri scolded gently. 

Kel let Joren take her away from the mess, a little less upset now. That night was the longest night of the year. There was another small gathering held in Raoul’s rooms that Joren attended. In the morning, the group of friends rose early and went to the Chapel. The king and queen were already present and holding hands. Roald was greeted with cheers as he exited the Chamber. 

Joren smiled as he went back to his rooms afterwards, knowing that his present would be received with full knowledge of who sent it this year, Kel having figured him out during the Progress. He smiled at the feathers she had given him with a note that they were to keep him honest. A short while later a knock on the door, revealed Kel herself, she immediately kissed him. 

“Thank you for the cleaning gear for my glaive. I appreciate it,” Kel smiled at him. 

Joren winked at her softly before replying, “Well, I did consider getting you a new glaive, but I suspected that if I did, you might spear me through with it.”

That earned him a playful slap on the arm and another kiss. He indulged in the kisses before pulling away a little and looking at her with complete seriousness, “Well, since your present was intended to keep me completely honest. I think there is something I need to tell you, Lady Squire Keladry.”

Kel eyed him wearily but nodded for him to continue, “As you know, if I survive my Ordeal, I will not only be a Knight of the Realm but also, Lord of Stone Mountain. As Lord of Stone Mountain, it would be my duty to eventually provide Stone Mountain with a Lady and heir.”

Joren paused at her panicked expression, “Calm down, this isn’t a proposal. Not yet at least. I would never deny you the opportunity to gain your knighthood and all that it stands for. I… well I suppose I just wanted to inform you, in no uncertain terms, that I love you. No pressure. Just to let you know that I love you and that, one day, after you have your knighthood, I do hope to marry you. Please don’t run screaming now.” Joren looked pathetically at her. 

Kel’s expression was one that was confused and slightly panicked still. Once she had enough time to process what he was saying she offered a weak smile, “I love you too. At least, I think I do. Thank you for the… warning I suppose… of your intentions.”

Joren smiled brightly at that and kissed her deeply. They spent the afternoon walking in the city, just a quiet day away from their friends. Joren’s Ordeal was that night and he was beginning to feel true fear at the idea. Kel informed him that she would be spending the evening with her Yamani friends as Raoul was attending a family event with Buri. He kissed her one last time just before they reached the palace and parting. Joren prayed silently that it wouldn’t be his last kiss, that many more were to come. He prayed silently that he had many more days, nights, and years to spend completely in love with Kel.

Lord Wyldon was the second knight for Joren’s instructions, Joren felt a little relieved at this. Sir Paxton and Wyldon were waiting for him when he reached the room where the bath was held that was attached to the Chapel. He set aside his clothing for the Ordeal and stripped right in front of the two knights. They asked if he was prepared to be instructed as he scrubbed and Joren confirmed that he was. 

The ritual dictated each of the men’s words. It went over his responsibility as a knight of the realm and defend the innocent and those in need. The two men bounced the words back and forth between them about all that would be expected of him. Joren listened carefully as he cleaned himself until he was squeaky clean. 

He finally put on his vigil clothing and Sir Paxton looked at him with complete seriousness, “Remember, you must make no sound between now and the time you leave the Chamber of Ordeal.” Paxton hugged Joren before letting the young man walk through the door into the Chapel. 

It wasn’t heated and the cold immediately began to penetrate his thin layer of protection to his still damp skin. He clenched his teeth to keep them from chattering and settled in the bench at the front of the Chapel in front of the Chamber. Joren didn’t allow himself to dwell on the cold or his fear though. Instead, he tucked his feet under himself to keep them warm, crossed his arms and began thinking of all he could do if he survived. He allowed his mind to wander to his fief, one he had technically already inherited, and its occupants. The people that had been governed more by his mother than his father. 

He then thought of how it seemed that Lady Verene had done more to honor the code of Chivalry than his father had, despite his father having obtained his knighthood. Joren focused on that next. His father had less compassion and respect for others than Joren did and the man had survived his Ordeal. If he did then Joren should as well, even if it was difficult. 

In this manner, as Joren looked blankly at the Chamber and contemplated his future, a future that was still very much in doubt, the night passed. He seemed to have lost track of time and was only brought back to the present when the door to the Chamber clanked open and one of the Priests of Mithros entered the Chapel. Joren stood stiffly, his legs having gone numb from the long night of inactivity in the cold. He grimaced slightly at the pins and needles he felt as he moved about. 

Joren breathed carefully, avoiding sighing as he walked towards the open door. He felt his hands tremble slightly as he stepped into the chamber and the door slammed shut. 

For a moment, Joren stood in complete darkness before he was suddenly on the open ocean standing on an unstable raft. He barely bit back a yelp of surprise before dropping to his knees. 

Joren twisted his head around, back, and forth to assess his situation. Then, he dipped his hand carefully into the water and yanked it back almost immediately at the icy cold temperature. The raft was rolling gently with the waves and Joren pondered his situation. He put his wet fingers to his lips and tasted it. The water wasn’t salty, so he assumed that he was on a lake of some sort. More glancing around showed a dot of land. He pondered how to get to the land when the raft rocked more violently. 

While he had been thinking, storm clouds appeared and wind from the approaching storm was pushing the water about, causing sharper waves to occur. Water even began to push over the raft and run along his calves and feet. The chill made him shutter but he clenched his teeth again to keep them from chattering again and looked along the raft for something to hold onto. Finding nothing, He opted to stretch out and grab either side of the raft to hold on, even if it meant being dosed in icy water, it was still better than drowning. 

He had kept his fear of drowning well hidden from most people. It wasn’t too hard, after all, there was no testing on it. He clung tightly as the wind whipped the water up violently. He felt his grip slowly falter, the water making the wood of the raft slippery. Then, he heard a crack in the raft. He felt terror grip his heart as he realized that this was it. The Chamber was condemning him to death. He had known in a part of him that it would happen. He debated if it was worth clinging to the crumbling raft for a few more second and then decided it wasn’t. 

He was relieved that he had at least told Kel he loved her before dying. He hoped that with all her virtue, she would survive what he couldn’t and then let go of the raft. The next wave shoved him off the raft and he plunged into the icy water. Just as his breath was about to give out under the water, he was shoved up against a shore. He scrambled up and out of the water. He barely held back the gasps for air, willing his lungs to take it in slowly. Once he was recovered enough to stand, he did. 

A quick glance showed that he was no longer near any water. He now stood somewhere in a heavily wooded forest. He held a spear along with a group of the older pages. It took him a second to process where he was before recognizing the man who was nearby. Lord Raoul, and Joren was thirteen. It was the Spidren hunt. The one that Kel had led. Lord Wyldon and Lord Raoul were giving orders out. 

Unlike being in the second line, Joren found himself with the men of the King’s Own going down into the valley where the Spidren nest was. He felt a wave of terror crash over him as the fighting started and he froze. It was nothing like the real battle, the men of the Own were cut down left and right around him as he did nothing, couldn’t move. Then he heard a shout of ‘at the rear’ it was Kel’s voice, he had heard it during the real fight too, but he had also been much closer to her than. Next, he heard a series of screams coming from Kel and the other younger pages as they were killed. None of the Own did anything to stop it, too wrapped up in their own fruitless fighting.

As he watched the last of the Own’s men being cut down around him and he was surrounded by Spidren, he felt himself released from the paralyze. He heard a woman sobbing in the cave and tightened his grip on his spear. He managed to cut down two Spidren, completely on his own before turning to a third that had thrown something hard at his back, bruising it. He struck out with the spear when the Spidren vanished and he tumbled to the ground. 

He looked around and found the area suddenly free of opponents. He ran to the cave where the sobbing was. Inside, he found a strange woman curled on the ground, Vinson with a snarl on his face and sword raised over head. As Joren had run, the spear in his hand had dissolved. With nothing to defend the woman with, Joren threw himself between her and Vinson.

He landed with a thump on the cold flagstones, once more in a dark gray box. A cold whisper of a voice sounded in his head, “Interesting, very interesting. You might just do after all.” At that, as Joren stood, an invisible force shoved him out the opening door. Joren nearly sobbed in relief at the sight of Sir Paxton, his mother, and Kel along with some of her animals waiting for him. 

Sir Paxton came forward and asked if Joren was alright. He nodded slowly and was helped to his feet, unaware that he had somehow fallen to his knees. He smiled at Kel weakly as he was helped past her. Her soft expression had him straighten a little. Paxton led him to his rooms where a warm bath was waiting already. Joren eased carefully into the hot water before relaxing into it more fully. A light meal was brought for him and he lingered in the bath until the water cooled. 

When he did get out of the water it was to take a nap. He was woken around noon and ate again before seeking Kel out. He was relieved that she was in her rooms and happy to sit down on her bed next to her.

“I have a bit of a confession to make. It is a bit heavy and might make you hate me again afterwards,” Joren stated as he leaned against her.

Kel looked at him with concern but nodded for him to continue. Joren kissed her lightly before telling her of his encounter with Kyprioth and the vision he had seen in the fire that night.

“So, what you’re telling me is that you went into that Chamber with the knowledge that if you hadn’t changed enough, you wouldn’t have been coming out of there alive,” Kel wasn’t asking a question, just confirming what he said. His nod did prompt a question from her. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“I didn’t want you to feel like I was pressuring you for anything. Can you honestly say that if you knew the chances of my dying were higher that you wouldn’t have done something you might have regretted?” Joren took her hand at this and kissed it.

“No, you’re right, for once. It might have even created a level of resentment if I did regret it. I’m sorry but I’m just not ready for that yet,” Kel offered weakly.

“I know. I don’t think I’m ready for it either. I want everything to be perfect, preferably on our wedding night,” Joren nudged her in a tease. “So, you don’t hate me? Even if there is a high possibility that if I hadn’t received that warning that I could have turned out worse than Vinson. Someone so horrible that the Chamber would have killed me outright.”

“You know, I think that if you didn’t have the potential for good in you all along, the Trickster wouldn’t have been able to get through to you. He probably wouldn’t have even bothered to try,” Kel pointed out. “So, no, I don’t hate you. I still love you. The change had to have been real for you to have survived and I love the man you are.”

Joren pulled away just enough to look her in the eye, “You know, I do believe I will never tire of hearing you say you love me. I suppose that might be because I love you too. I’m glad I told you and sorry that I kept it from you. I just didn’t want you to feel cornered.” With this he kissed her tenderly. 

“I appreciate that. So, do you think that anything interesting will occur tomorrow?” Kel asked, referring to Garvey, another former friend of Joren’s.

“I doubt it. Garvey was always a follower, through and through. He doesn’t have, at least, the confidence to do what Vinson did and think he could get away with it. Garvey isn’t horrible, just misguided. Vinson did and thought he could get away with it. Zahir won’t have any problems with his Ordeal either, I think. The thing about Vinson, and of the Genlith Family in general to be honest, is that he never expected retribution. When I reported him for attacking Lalasa, he seemed to be offended, more than anything else, that anyone would have the audacity to even quietly stand up to him,” Joren thought back on that incident. He almost chuckled at the knowledge that he had no idea of where he would be today back then. 

“So, you think the rest of the Ordeals will go as they should,” Kel asked. 

Joren nodded, “I do, though, now that I think about it, Lord Wyldon might take it a little hard that something as horrible as Vinson occurred under his tenure as training master.

Joren left Kel a short while later to prepare for his knighting ceremony. His mother, sisters, who had just arrived from the convent, and Sir Paxton went out to eat with him afterwards to celebrate. As predicted, Garvey and Zahir survived their Ordeals with little excitement. When all the squires that year had been through their Ordeals, the date of the Progress departing was announced. 

Joren was already mostly packed, having moved from the palace to his family’s townhouse now that he had obtained his knighthood and was the rightful Lord of Stone Mountain. He was visiting with Kel in the evening after the announcement, Kel was clearly uncomfortable about something but Joren figured that she would tell him when she decided.

As she packed, and they talked, Kel’s door burst open. Joren smiled a little at Kel’s knee jerk reaction to go for her sword. She relaxed when she saw it was Owen. Joren nodded at Owen who completely ignored him in favor of his excitement.

“Kel! I’m a squire!” He cried, bouncing around.

Kel was clearly biting back a laugh but Joren didn’t bother, “You’ve been a squire for months.” Kel pointed out, while giving Joren a scolding look.

“Not like you’re a squire, not like Neal. Kel, my brain’s gonna pop! I’m not in service to Sir Myles anymore. Lord Wyldon resigned, and he’s going home for a while and come spring, he’s going to fight Scanrans. With me! He’s going to work me like a horse, he says, but Kel, I’ll be a squire to a fighting knight! Isn’t it the jolliest? And he’ll teach me to breed dogs!” Joren had straightened at the information that Lord Wyldon resigned.

Owen hugged Kel in excitement before leaving, Kel having fallen into laughter, “Care to share?” Joren asked, having a good idea what was bothering her earlier.

“I was told by the king not to tell anyone but since I didn’t actually tell you, I suppose I can elaborate. He said he was resigning because of what happened with Vinson. That you had reported his assaulting another woman and that he didn’t, couldn’t do anything to punish Vinson for it,” Kel smiled weakly. “I suggested that Lord Wyldon take Owen on as his squire.”

“That was probably wise. Owen and Wyldon will likely balance each other,” Joren nodded his approval. Joren left her to her packing a short while later. 

He was disappointed when Third Company, Kel included, left ahead of Progress to scout the road. The Progress stopped in Irontown for a week before continuing south into the farming lands and then the desert. Finally, at this point the scouting parties were ordered to join with the main Progress. 

Joren had happily offered to deliver the message and was riding back with Third Company. Sargent Domination, a friend of Kel’s from the company, grumbled to her about knowing when to return. Kel had quipped back at him and given him a raised eyebrow.

Dom glanced between the two, “You look just like my lord when he does that. Doesn’t she look like Lord Raoul when she raises her eyebrows?”

Joren looked at Kel intently before smirking, “Oh, I don’t know. I like to think Lady Keladry is a bit pleasanter to look at, eyebrow raised or not.”

Kel blushed and Dom laughed, “You know, you might just be right about that.” Dom and Joren than spent the rest of the afternoon of riding competing at who could flatter and make Kel blush more.

That evening, Kel scolded him for teasing. Joren responded by kissing her, “Sorry, I was just releasing a little tension since we haven’t really gotten a chance to spend time together. What I said was true though, didn’t tell a single lie.” Kel blushed again at this. They then went on to discuss the Bazhir and their greeting for the king. 

The rest of the week was spent immersed with tribes traveling with them until they reached the fortress city of Persopolis. When they arrived, the pattern changed a little, instead of squires providing service at the gatherings, they were guests. This meant Joren could dine with Kel, a welcome change. It led to a few antics, however. Some conversations took interesting turns that amused Joren a great deal, others a little less so as they had to do with the potential for war with Scanra. 

The day after one such evening, Joren spent half a day looking for Kel only to find her that evening, one of her sparrows had died. While he didn’t fully understand the sentiment, he still tried to comfort her the best he could. At supper, she refused a challenge with snappish anger that was out of character. When two days later, another of the older sparrows was found dead, Joren joined Kel in burying him besides the first. He comforted her again, offering what support he could as she wept.


	14. Spring 458-Winter 458/459

When the Progress left Persopolis, it headed towards the hill country and then south along the border. Joren watched in concern as Kel continued to refuse challenges and had taken a few of them himself in her defense. She would scowl and scold him for it but Joren knew that it was common knowledge now that he was courting Kel. Neither had made much effort to hide it, so it wasn’t as if his actions drew too many raised eyebrows.

More often though, he would practice with their circle of friends. When they were in Pearlmouth, the group explored the markets and Joren noticed Kel eyeing the work of Carthaki smiths. He discreetly went back later to purchase a dagger for her as a gift to be given at some later time. 

When they camped outside Port Legann, Kel took up fletching arrows with some of her griffin feathers. It was around then that Third Company was called away to help people living in an area struck by an earthquake. It was a full month and a half of the Progress moving inland and to the north before Third Company caught up near the river Tellerun. When they did, it was cramped camping and Joren had only realized that Third Company was camped nearby by overhearing a conversation. 

He had made quick work of saddling his horse and seeking out where they camped, looking forward to seeing Kel for the first time in months. He got lucky in finding her tent before anyone in the Third Company camp noticed him and yanked her into a tight hug. 

“Ah, finally someone was sensible enough to bring you back to me,” He stated before kissing her soundly. She asked if he missed her and that earned her more kissing. He didn’t press too far, just kisses, though he was annoyed when the kissing was interrupted. 

“Kel? Suppertime,” Raoul called from outside the tent.

“Blasted Hurroks,” Joren grumbled in her ear so that those outside the tent wouldn’t hear.

Kel giggled at his reaction which earned her another kiss. Buri spoke up next, “Whose horse is that?” Joren was grateful for his restraint as it meant they didn’t have to scramble to straighten themselves. 

Kel had accidently hinted that she had a guest in the tent and Raoul poked his head in to check. Joren bowed politely to him and asked if he could join them for dinner, if they had the supplies. He was welcomed readily, and he enjoyed the opportunity to spend a little time with Kel. 

When the Progress moved on, there was less time for them to spend together than Joren would have liked. His status as a lord of a fief and the duties it entailed kept him busy while Kel handled squire duties. Still, he enjoyed the small amounts of time they could steal together. The further north they got, the more annoyed Kel was with the pace, Joren got a little amusement from this, having never gotten fully rid of the part that enjoyed seeing Kel react to things. 

These days however, his endeavors were to get an obviously happy reaction as opposed to tormenting Kel like he had as a page. When they reached Blue Harbor, Kel went back to putting her name on the boards for matches. That Neal and Lady Alanna planned to disappear at the information of banquets on floating pavilions had only frustrated her more. He found out only when their group of friends had decided on a stroll in the city.

Owen had joined them, which meant that Lord Wyldon was there as well. Joren made a mental note to visit the man in the morning. They had wandered through the city and then headed back to camp. The others abandoned them when they reached the tournament grounds after Kel expressed a desire to see who she was jousting against. They all had ridiculous excuses, that Joren was grateful for, to leave the couple alone. 

When they reached the boards, Joren chuckled at the sight of Lord Wyldon’s name next to hers. Kel scowled at his humor until he kissed her, “I fully expect you to stay in the saddle this time. In fact, I might even make a wager that you will.” 

Kel rolled her eyes but allowed him to walk her back to his tent. After he did, he decided to seek out Lord Wyldon as the night was still young. When he managed to locate the tent, he was amused to see that Lord Wyldon was far from alone. His wife and two youngest children, two girls were there. His daughters seemed bent on convincing him to allow them to try for knighthood. It was apparently an ongoing argument as Joren had heard about it from his mother. 

He decided to make a little bit of mischief in honor of the god that had probably saved his life and to fulfill his promise of placing a wager on Kel’s match in the morning, “Fianola, Katilan, it is a rare thing for a young lady to keep up with men enough that they could obtain their knighthood.”

Joren noticed the stubborn set of both girls’ jaws and saw his opportunity, “Well, Lord Wyldon, if you are so confident of that, perhaps you might be willing to make a wager with your girls.” Joren spoke from the flap of the tent with a smirk.

Lord Wyldon looked startled but waved Joren in, “And what wager would that be?” He asked weary of the response. His wife looked interested. Joren also knew from his mother, that Lady Vivienne was on her daughters’ side of the argument.

“If Lady Squire Keladry can stay in the saddle for all three runs of her match with you tomorrow, you let your daughters go for their knighthood, end of argument. If she is unseated in the first run, they stop asking. If she is unseated in the second, they give you a year to think it over, if she is unseated in the third run, they leave you be for a month,” Joren didn’t want to keep them completely out of the running, just offer Lord Wyldon something as tempting as a reprieve from their requests.

Wyldon considered the idea for a moment before looking to his daughters who were nodding eagerly at the idea that they might be able to break the stalemate. Wyldon sighed, “Very well, at least I can get a bit of peace for a month or even better a year.” He clearly had no expectation of Kel keeping her seat while Joren knew that Kel never made the same mistake twice, he had learnt that as a page. 

The next day, he opted to sit with his friends for the match but kept an eye to where Wyldon’s family were seated near them. He cheered when she kept her seat the first and second run, Wyldon would get a reprieve of a month at most. Wyldon nearly had her out of her saddle on the third pass but Peachblossom, bless his stubborn heart, managed to keep her in the saddle. 

While a field monitor took Kel’s lance from her, Joren couldn’t help but cheer. He then rushed down to the field when he noticed that she was having trouble with her balance. He got there just in time for him to hear Wyldon talk to Kel, “Mindelan, very well done, very well indeed. You listened to my advice about your shield- but then, I expected no less. I only wish-“

“I know, my lord. You wish I were a boy. But being a girl is more fun… more funner? Is that right?” Kel had cut him off and Joren smiled a little at her response.

“Go lie down, Mindelan. You’re tilt-silly,” Wyldon advised. 

He noticed Joren and nodded his acknowledgement to him. Joren couldn’t help but smirk at his former training master while he helped Kel off Peachblossom and provided her with support. He laughed outright when Wyldon ordered Peachblossom to behave for once and the gelding obeyed too. Once he got her back to her tent, Joren went to go fetch Wyldon’s youngest girls. He told the other Lord that it would be good for them to get advice from Kel as she and the Lioness were the only living females to go through the training and the Lioness wasn’t around to give advice. 

Wyldon had grudgingly agreed, “Very well, you can go into training this year. However, since you will be traveling in the Progress with your mother until then, Lord Joren here is going to take responsibility to ensure that you can manage when you reach the palace. I won’t have any nonsense of turning back or quitting once you start. If you are training for Knighthood, it’s all or nothing, no half-hearted business.”

Joren had shrugged, figuring that this was Wyldon’s revenge. He had no issue with it though as it would earn him points with his own Lady love. He led Katilan and Fianola to Kel’s tent and waited with them outside, not letting them enter until she was awake. A friend of theirs, Yvenne had joined them while waiting. She explained to Joren that she had already convinced her mother to let her go for knighthood so Joren decided to let her stay and wait.

After a while, they started to get impatient, “Is she going to sleep forever?” Katilan asked Joren plaintively.  
“I can’t believe she stayed in the saddle. Papa says Lord Wyldon unseats everyone,” Yvenne decided to strike up a conversation.  
“When he hit her that third time? I thought his lance would go straight through her. But he didn’t unseat her. He shook her hand!” Joren couldn’t help but smile at Katilan’s comment, the girl had always worshiped her father, so it was amusing to see her admiration for Kel added in the mix.

“We should go if she’s asleep. It’s just, we won’t know anything, if we don’t ask,” Fianola pointed out, looking to Joren as he was in charge of her and her sister.

Joren waved for her to stay and poked his head in the tent to check. Kel had opened her eyes. Jump had immediately fetched her an apple before the sparrows started ferrying over grapes, one at a time. Joren had to pull out and wave the girls in before bursting into laughter. 

Fianola got Kel water and then Yvenne started talking away, “You broke his lance! It was beautiful.” 

“Beautiful is Yvenne’s word for the week,” Fianola informed Kel, and Joren chuckled a little, but allowed them their privacy.

“Mama and Papa say me and Fianola can train for our knighthood this year,” Katilan supplied Kel with why they were there finally. “Fianola will do it even though she’s too old.”

“Fianola and I,” Fianola corrected her sister, an odd tone made Joren curious but Kel’s response seemed to settle things.

“My best friend, Nealan of Queenscove, was fifteen when he started. He’s the squire to Alanna the Lioness now,” Kel told the girls.

“We hoped… if you don’t mind…,” Fianola sounded shy now and Joren was tempted to go in and prompt the girl but before he could, their friend solved the issue.

“Have you any advice for us? Things we can practice, like archery and horseback riding, except we know those,” Yvenne asked.

“Do we have to be as big as you? I don’t think I’m going to be very tall,” Katilan was more outgoing than her sister.

There was some grunting and Joren realized that Kel must be getting up from her cot, “I’m just lucky that I’m big. Alanna the Lioness is a head shorter than me and she manages. It will help if you run. Up and down stairs, on broken ground. Run for a long time. That builds up your wind and your stamina and your legs. Climb, hunt, really work on archery and riding. Lift heavy things, I worked hard, I still do. Don’t let anyone say it’s easy.” Joren made a mental note of those things to help the Cavall girls prepare for their training. 

There was a little more grunting and Joren wondered if Kel was dressed yet. Then silence reigned for a while. Kel finally spoke again, a serious tone in her voice, “More importantly, be ready to put up with things… Insults, practical jokes, dirty tricks. Nobody will make it easy. You’ll be called names and accused of doing things you’d expect from the worst slattern who works upstairs rooms at inns. None of that is important, so long as you win through to your goal. Now, shoo, please. I need to go eat.”

Joren watched as they exited and waved them off, ordering Katilan and Fianola to go to bed early as they would begin their training the next day. Kel caught him at the entrance to her tent and he smiled before admitting to her what he had done. She slapped him on the shoulder, “What if Wyldon had unseated me in the first run?”

“Oh, please, no one has unseated you in the first run. Well, no one but Lord Raoul but he wasn’t your opponent. Besides, I had complete faith that you would succeed. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have made the wager. I would have been too fearful of your wrath,” Joren teased before kissing her and informing her that he was going to have an early evening and Wyldon had all but ordered him to prepare his daughters for their training as pages. 

“This will put out all the conservatives to know that the man they thought was ‘their voice at court’ is going to let two of his daughters go for knighthoods,” Kel looked slightly gleeful at that. “What’s even better is that you know that Wyldon doesn’t do anything by halves. That means he won’t let them quit without good sound reasoning.”

“Exactly. I think I will relish in watching the conservatives squirm at the idea of another old family defecting to the ‘progressive’ ideals of the king,” Joren crowed. With this he went back to his tents.

“Hmm… I suppose you haven’t completely given up mischief after all. Good, it would be a shame to see it go to waste,” Kyprioth waiting in his tent was annoying but Joren let it pass. The god seemed to be there only to give voice to his approval. “I suppose I don’t need to visit again. You survived your Ordeal. Good luck.”

With this, Kyprioth disappeared. Joren got the feeling that he really wouldn’t be seeing the god again and wondered why he had gained his attention at all. Either way, he was grateful for the interference as it meant his life. 

When they left Blue Harbor finally, they moved north up the coast. Then they pitched camp on the edge of Fief Mindelan. It was Joren’s first time seeing Kel’s home fief. It was supposed to be a sign of favor to her family for negotiating the treaty with the Yamani. Joren watched with interest as Kel interacted with her nieces and nephews, of whom there were quite a few. It was amusing to see that Kel was the same height as her eldest brother and a relief that he wasn’t the only one who matched heights with her. 

Joren also had the pleasure of spending Kel’s birthday with her while they were at Mindelan. He gave her the Carthaki dagger he had bought her in Pearlmouth and earned an enthusiastic kiss for it. He was happy he had chosen to present it to her in private. There was a small party for her as well and Joren found himself on the receiving end of extensive questioning from Kel’s elder brothers and sisters-in-law. Cleon had a blast, playing with Kel’s nephews and nieces, having spent time at Mindelan as Inness’s squire.

Just before the Progress moved on, Scanran wolf-ships were sighted off the coast of Fiefs Seabeth and Seajen but hadn’t attacked yet. The same day, a messenger from Northwatch arrived, informing them that Scanrans had crossed the border and General Vanget haMinch was requesting troops and supplies immediately. The monarchs were also instructed to move the Progress away from the now embattled border. 

Joren and most of the new knights were called into a meeting with the King and Queen. After some discussion, Joren was startled to realize that he wasn’t being sent north with the other knights of his year, Third Company was also staying with the Progress, so he wasn’t separating from Kel, but he was still confused. When the others had filed out, all that was left was Joren and Lord Raoul. 

“Your Majesty, I’m not questioning your authority or anything, I am just curious, why am I not being sent north with the rest of my year-mates?” Joren asked, Raoul was clearly waiting for Joren to leave so he figured he get the question out of the way and then find Kel.

King Jonathan sighed, “Frankly? You are from an old, conservative family but, well honestly, everyone knows you have taken a rather progressive stance. That is useful to me, it means that some older families that tend to look to yours might take a leaning towards the progressive too if it means being in your good graces. Lord Joren, you are too politically valuable to send into war. It would also be damaging if a four-year-old was the Lord of a fief that controls a hefty portion of our opal and silver exports. You’re an adult with good, sound advice coming from your mother and uncle. That provides stability that we need too. In short, you’re more valuable to me away from the fighting, I’m sorry.”

Joren nodded slowly, “I see. So, that means I won’t be a true knight.” It was a blow in a way, but he understood the king’s reasoning. He bowed and left. 

He sought out Cleon who was just a floor below and heard Raoul and the king and queen arguing as a result. Once they heard the fight end, they went to go find Kel. She was out by the nearby river sitting on a log. Cleon and Joren sat on either side of her, Joren taking her hand firmly in his own. 

“Half of us are off to Northwatch. We leave tonight at moonrise. The ones to defend the coast are going now. They’re taking three of the Rider Groups… not Buri’s Seventeenth, though,” Cleon stated. 

Kel glanced at Joren in concern. Joren smile weakly, “Oh, not me. According to the king, I am too important a political chess piece to be thrown away in random violence. I don’t like being coddled but I don’t get much of a choice.”

“My lord?” Kel asked, glancing between the men on either side of her.

Cleon shook his head, “The King’s decided that First Company of the King’s Own had been at court too long and needs to remember why they wear the pretty mail. Glaisdan and his men are on their way to the coast. My lord Raoul and Third Company stay with the progress.”

“Maybe I’ll sleep here tonight. He’ll be angrier than a stung boar,” Kel shudder. 

Joren wrapped his arm around her shoulder and smirked, “The queen sent him to his room.”

Kel looked stunned by the information, “She what?”

“Not in front of anyone. They were in that tower of yours. We wouldn’t have heard anything if I hadn’t needed to… well I was on the floor right below and Joren had come looking for me. The queen said if Raoul was going to squall like an infant cheated of a sweet, he could go to his room until he grew up,” Cleon clarified. Joren couldn’t help smiling a little bigger at the reminder of what the queen said.

Kel hid her face in Joren’s chest before speaking, “Definitely staying out here tonight. Did he go?” She looked at them suddenly very curious.

Cleon nodded, “Sooner or later he’ll realize the monarchs will want to see thing for themselves. Then he will have to keep them safe with one hundred men. Maybe he’s figured it out by now. That it’s why Commander Buri didn’t squeak about her staying with the progress.”

Kel nodded her understanding, cuddling closer to Joren, “How long will you be gone, Cleon?” She whispered. He was her friend, Joren knew that and didn’t begrudge Cleon Kel’s concern. 

“All summer at least,” Cleon stated before standing. “I should go and rest a little before I leave with the others tonight.”

Kel stood and gave Cleon a quick hug before he departed. Then, Joren let her snuggle with him a little before coxing her back to her home to sleep in a real bed. The much smaller progress was east of Mindelan when Cleon’s prediction came true. Joren grumbled as he was sent on with Roald and Shinkokami in the Progress while Kel and Third Company stayed behind with the monarchs, a few mages, and a Rider group. 

It was roughly three weeks later that they rejoined the progress at Fief Hannalof. Joren couldn’t help but feel relief. He heard from Kel, with a great deal of amusement, of the monarchs being scolded by General Vanget. After this, they traveled east through the lands held by the ancient Minchi clan, north of Fief Dunlath on the Gallan border. 

The progress then went south and west. There were a lot of tournaments and Kel seemed determined to compete frequently. Joren was happy to cheer for her from the stands, though he did occasionally joust if incited. There were less knights to joust against, but it was a bit of fun for him all the same. 

When the Progress finally returned to Corus, the weather had turned, and the leaves were almost completely gone from the trees. Just days after they had settled into the palace, Kel sought Joren out and hugged him. She refused to let go for a full hour and never told him why. Eventually, just before she left for the night, she informed him that she was glad he wasn’t going to be sent to fight the Scanrans. 

She seemed to deflate a little when they reached Midwinter and Cleon, Neal and Owen were still in the north. Kel almost clung even tighter to Joren during the winter, when she wasn’t in lessons with Lord Raoul. During Midwinter, Joren gave her a gift that was really a lot more expensive than he let on. A set of knives that were attached to fitted arm and leg guards. All of them came from Raven Armory. He had decided she would need something a little more combat ready as he suspected that come spring she would be heading north. 

There was some level of excitement about the Ordeals, the Chapel being rather full during them, after the events of Vinson’s Ordeal the year before. When the holiday had passed, Kel was often dragged off with Third Company into the royal forest to help the villages there. Joren, meanwhile, had found himself increasingly dragged into political meetings with the king, queen, and other nobles, all of whom were conservatives. The king explained that Joren was the perfect mediator for such talks because he came from such a conservative background, but he now held progressive views. This meant he could give the king insight on how far he could push for something before angering conservatives. 

Joren found himself quickly studying laws in more intimate detail and praying for a reprieve whenever Kel was in the palace. After one such meeting, he and Roald, who had also been attending the meeting, were talking. 

“I think father is preparing you to be my Prime Minister eventually. If you think about it, it makes sense. We’re friends, have similar political viewpoints, and you have a powerful holding in Fief Stone Mountain with a lot of influence, even now. Sir Gareth the Younger had to pick up the slack, according to father, when his aunt, my grandmother, died and his father didn’t have the heart for it anymore. I understand it was difficult for him and father at first,” Roald commented while they drank tea.

“So, he wants to have someone prepared, just in case. Some ‘under’ prime minister in the event of Sir Gareth’s or his death? Makes sense. You’re right, I would make a prime option. Especially with my openly courting Kel. It is common knowledge, which means he doesn’t have to worry about my stance on women in the military. Not if my goal for a wife is a female knight,” Joren sighed. “I suppose I will have to settle for Kel getting to be the one to earn all the glory in battle while I learn a new form of combat.”

“You won’t resent her for it?” Roald looked at Joren curiously.

Joren shook his head, “No, she has worked harder for it than any of us. It would be petty of me. Besides, I love her too much for resentment to take hold. I do believe we will have to settle for being the most powerful couple of your court. She can lead the King’s Own for you, seems to be what Raoul has her training for anyways, and I will lead your government.”

Roald nodded satisfied, “Mine and Shinko’s government. She and I are planning to go the same route as Father and Mother on that front.”

“Good. Your bride is a bit too intelligent to be used as nothing more than a court ornament and broad mare. You should talk to your mother about having Shinko get involved with the Riders, they are called ‘the Queen’s Riders’ which would imply they have a similar purpose for the queen that the King’s Own has for the king,” Joren pointed out.

“Hmm… see, you’re already proving to be a valuable source of ideas. Between Father’s generation and mine, we should have Tortall singing a new tune about women warriors in no time. On that note, aren’t Lord Wyldon’s two youngest girls and another girl in page training now?” Roald changed to another topic.

“Yes, Fianola and Katilan are apparently thriving. Lord Wyldon has tasked me with keeping an eye on them because he blames me for having to allow them to learn. That said, he wrote me just before the roads closed-up for the winter. Apparently, the girls aren’t facing the same level of discrimination that Kel did. I have been keeping an eye out and that seems to be true. I guess when three pages are female rather than just one, it is harder to target them, especially if they are all grouped together and have such powerful family ties. Apparently, Kel’s nephew has joined in their little group of friends, them all being in the same year and Lachlan being well-aware of females being capable of fighting, what with his aunt being prepared for her own knighthood,” Joren shrugged.

“And if there aren’t any bullies in there either,” Roald pointed out, eying Joren. 

“Oh, I didn’t say that, Sir Ansil of Groten’s son, Coran of Groten and Muirgen haMinch, are two years above them and cause a bit of mischief, Sir Padraig, however, doesn’t hold for his nephew to anger the king and is strict with them about it as a result. He seemed dead set on holding each of the pages to the same exacting standard. No favoritism permitted,” Joren commented. 

Roald nodded his understanding. They moved on to other topics and eventually parted, though Joren began taking things more seriously than before. When Third Company switched from visiting villages to resupplying, Joren was pleased that Kel was around more and amused at her frustrations with the crown suppliers. Joren felt a little surer that Kel would be going north in the spring and he accepted the idea reluctantly. 

He knew that it wouldn’t be for more than until late fall at most, because Kel had her Ordeal the next winter, and he silently hoped, also a wedding, though he didn’t bring it up. He could tell she still wasn’t ready for marriage just yet, though he hoped when she came back, and he made it clear that he wouldn’t let their marriage hold her back, that she would be happy to agree with the idea.

Joren found himself being dragged to Lord Raoul’s rooms with the king, Flyndan and Sir Myles one day. He was a little disconcerted to be drawn into a political meeting this important but didn’t challenge it. As they approached the rooms, Raoul’s door was open, and they could hear talking within, “…has another three clans under his banner. It’s rare that Scanrans unite, but they do manage every twenty or thirty years. I guess they forgot what happened the last time.”

“It’s worse than last time,” Myles stated, standing in the doorway with the others. “Is yours a private party, or may anyone join?”

Kel made tea as they sat and once they had been served, Myles spoke again, “We have news from the north. It’s not good. Join us, please, Kel.”

Joren was smirking even as the King and Flyndan scowled. After glancing around, a nod from Raoul had Kel sitting between him and Joren. The king may not be as aware of how much influence Kel would have in the future just yet. Her lack of knighthood didn’t deter from her intelligence.

“Every night, I thank the gods for Daine,” Myles commented as he adjusted the taste of his tea with a touch of sugar. “Since she came to us, we have sources of information year-round. We’re not blind in winter. Maggur Rathhausak has been a busy boy. He now has nine clans under his banner. The remaining clans on their Great Council brawl over trade monopolies and blood feuds, while this southern wolf munches them up one by one.”

“I don’t understand, I thought it was impossible to get three Scanrans to… eat together, let alone fight. How did he unite nine clans sworn to drink each other’s blood?” Flyndan’s change in wording had Joren hiding a smile.

“Warlord Maggur is clever. He keeps hostages,” Myles supplied.

This led to a chorus of surprise and Sir Myles explaining how the warlord managed it. This resulted in a brief discussion of the hostages and why Myles’s people couldn’t free them. It then transitioned to how Raoul was attempting to resupply Third Company using Kel to conceal his plans. 

“It’s an exercise in logistics and supply,” Kel’s face was almost too innocent as she spoke and Joren had to fight to keep his expression clear of amusement. “He makes me study such things.”

Myles laughed a little, “Very good, my dear. Very good. If you ever want to work as an agent, I hope you’ll come to me.”

The king shifted and started scolding Raoul for not telling him in person. This resulted in what could amount to a childish bickering match that lasted until it was revealed that Glaisdan of Haryse, the head of First Company was dead. 

“What happened?” Raoul asked.

“He heard of a late autumn raid on Carmine Tower. He thought two squads would be enough to capture the raiders. One man made it back. He said that Glaisdan misinterpreted trail signs and took them into the middle of a three-clan war party,” Sir Myles supplied.

Raoul paused before speaking quietly, “I told you he wasn’t fit for a field command.”

King Jonathan deflated, “You were right. I let my temper get the better of me, and now twenty men are dead. I’m sorry, Raoul. I think you know how sorry I am.”

Raoul acknowledged that he did, and the King informed the Knight, Squire, and Captain that they would be leaving at the start of spring and all but ordered them not to get killed. Sir Myles asked for every prisoner they can managed to take so that they could gain more information.

“We are getting wild reports of strange machines… Metal beasts and walking stones. None of ours who are still alive have seen them. I need something definite,” Sir Myles explained and gave warning. Kel and Raoul were informed they had more money for supplies and then Myles departed.

Joren cringed at the idea of Kel possibly facing such a creature but knew that if anyone had the intelligence to face one and survive, it was her. The next few weeks, whenever Kel wasn’t working on supplying Third Company and Joren wasn’t in meetings, they tried to garner a little time to themselves. He dreaded her departure but knew it was unavoidable.


	15. Spring 459 - Winter 459/460

True to the King’s word, Third Company left for the north just as the spring thaw started. Joren spent the night before their departure with Kel, if they kissed a little harder and held each other a little closer, neither mentioned it. In the morning, he was with the few who saw the company off and then his mother dragged him off to inform him of an offer of betrothal for his younger sister Margery that he needed to review. He sighed but agreed to meet with the knight. Cassie was already betrothed and due to marry in a few months so having Margery betrothed as well would be a weight off his mind. He had already informed his sisters that he wouldn’t agree to any marriage for them unless they had already expressed an explicit desire for it beforehand. 

Joren was thus, dually surprised when Sir Paxton entered and spoke a bit of his private courtship with Margery. Margery had slipped into Joren’s study as well and was looking hopefully at her brother. Joren looked between the two and sighed, “Margery, you’re sure the age difference won’t bother you?” He asked this only because Sir Paxton was a full eight years older than he himself was and he wanted his sister to be truly happy.

“Of course, I’m sure. Sir Paxton is all that is genuine and noble,” Margery paused before blushing a little and whispering. “I love him.”

Joren eyed her and then glanced back at Sir Paxton before slowly nodding, “Very well, we can draw up a marriage contract tomorrow. I am expected at a meeting this afternoon. King Jonathan is trying to win over as many nobles to his side on that law about equalizing punishments for nobles and commoners alike.”

“Of course. Thank you, Joren,” Sir Paxton gave him a smile and a nod before he left with Margery and Lady Verene. 

Joren slumped a little once they left. It was stressful enough living in what amounted to a gilded cage, being the king’s advocate for conservative nobles. At least he knew that Margery would be married to a decent man. After four years with Sir Paxton as a knight-master, Joren knew the man well enough to know that he would care for his sister well. Cassie was betrothed to the heir to Seabeth and Seajen, Kel’s cousin as it so happened, so she would be well off as well. 

Weeks passed at what felt like both a crawl and a recklessly fast pace for Joren. His mother was apparently a master at wedding planning because both his sisters were married by the summer solstice. It was a bit of a relief to have the events over with and done. Margery was still close by because of her new husband needing to be in court for the next Congress. Cassie was brought away to Seabeth and Seajen by her new husband and Joren began getting letters from her as updates on the combat near her new fief.

Kel had also began writing to him. It was a small reprieve from the otherwise bleak empty space of missing her. The letters went into descriptions of building a fort from scratch. Cutting down trees and raising stockade walls with a ditch holding sharpened logs to keep intruders out. He wrote back to her often. He couldn’t help but smile as he wrote to her that the change in the law that she had set into motion had passed. 

The letters came and went, both of them describing their lives as much as possible. Kel wrote of patrols, lookout duty atop a tree on a bluff, and of how boring war really was. Joren wrote of his sisters’ weddings, the discussions of Congress, and the progress of the three new female pages, figuring that Kel would want to know how they were doing. 

When Kel started describing the skirmishes with Scanran raiders, Joren felt concerned but as she had come through without any harm, as far as she claimed anyways, all he could do was write to her, urging her to be cautious, even though he already knew she would be. He was concerned but didn’t doubt her ability to hold her own in a fight.

When, in the end of August he received a letter from her, he was prepared for some relayed information of a few skirmishes. What he got instead made his heart stop briefly and then jump to his throat. It started out simply describing what was thought to be another raiding party, only this time, they had one of those metal-machines that Sir Myles had described. What she described, and had sketched for him, was horrifying. 

From the Scanran mage, to the arrows raining down from the trees, the entire thing sounded like a nightmare. Joren couldn’t help but wonder if Kel had written it more to get the emotions it invoked off her chest than to tell him of what happened. She had been put in charge of a squad and only then did she encounter the strange machine. With giant bones coated in metal, metal chains and rods acting as muscles, three joints to a limb and knives for hands and feet, the creature she had drawn and described was something that he had no doubt would give him nightmares. 

According to her story, they had restrained the thing with ropes before she had cracked open its dome with her Warhammer. The most horrible part of the description was that Kel had heard a child’s voice from the thing and it had been clearly animated by a human child’s soul. She described puncturing the dome of the creature and something like white steam flowing out of it and what she could only guess was a ghost calling ‘mama’. Joren sighed and brought the letter to King Jonathan. 

She had said they were sending the creature, whatever it was, to Northwatch and then it would be sent on down south to be further examined. Joren figured that the King had already heard of this by mage but would appreciate the sketch and description Kel had provided as the person who had done away with the thing. King Jonathan and Sir Myles read the letter, ignoring the last parts, which were romantic sentiments from Kel, and looked over the sketch. The sketch was sent to be copied so that it could be sent to all the command posts in the north along with a description of how it was defeated. Jonathan informed Joren that he had heard of what Kel had done but not the details. 

Eventually, the letter was returned and Joren set it away carefully, trying not to focus on how close she had come to dying and went to the temple district to pray to every god he could think of that she wouldn’t encounter any more of those things before returning the Corus that winter.

The next month and a half was spent in anxious waiting, Joren spent his free time debating with himself and eventually decided to propose to Kel when she returned. He had been courting her for nearly three years and as the nobles came to court for the winter, he was becoming increasingly annoyed with the matchmaking mothers. Without Kel around, they seemed to believe he was fair game. Joren had rebuffed every attempt to sway him and found a jeweler to create an engagement ring he felt was perfect for Kel. 

He decided on a simple design a gold band with a small ruby adorning it. He would have gone with something fancier but that would have made it harder to care for while she was in combat. He also purchased a fine gold chain she could hang it on while she was in combat. He then visited with an attorney to draw up a marriage contract. It specified that Kel would have the rights and freedoms to act as an individual and that they would be equals, not him as lord and master over her. He even wrote in a specific allowance for her to use as she saw fit. He added that any money she earned in service to the crown or from any investments she made were to remain solely within her power.

He was working on the perfect proposal for her in mid-October when there was knocking on the door to his rooms in the palace. He had taken them out of necessity, his duties dragging him further and further into the King’s circle of advisors, much to his surprise. He got up grumbling about having asked for an afternoon undisturbed. He figured it was some servant carrying a message from the king. 

He was pleasantly surprised when he opened the door and found himself being pushed back into the room with the door slamming shut behind her by none other than Kel herself. She had him pinned to the door and was kissing him fiercely, much to Joren surprise. When she pulled away, he couldn’t help but smile a little, “Well, I certainly can’t complain about this kind of greeting, love.”

It was his turn to kiss her. It was with a passion and intent that quickly took hold of him. He didn’t even have time to really register that she was now slightly taller than him as she tugged off his tunic and he was doing the same with hers. He found himself pushed back into the door as she kissed him again once the tunics were off. His mind didn’t fully catch up with the sound of his door being locked before she was pulling him backward, tugging at the ties of his shirt and breeches. He was eagerly doing the same to hers. 

The long separation had him forgetting all the reasons he had held back before and by the time she had backed him into his own bed and was straddling him, he was devoid of his shirt and his breeches were half open. Kel nudged him to shift up onto the bed a little and he obeyed, enjoying this forceful side of her. Her shirt had also been discarded by this point and as they kissed further, Joren worked to undo her breast-band. It wasn’t a skill that he had acquired previously but he managed well enough not to embarrass himself. Once he had, he finally decided to exert a little dominance and flipped them, so he was now hovering above Kel. 

He left her lips to kiss along her jawline and down to where her shoulder met her neck. There, he nipped and sucked until he had left a suitable mark there. Then he moved back to her lips for a fierce and urgent kiss. When he pulled away, something snapped into place and he looked at her with longing and intent, “Marry me?” He whispered hoarsely. 

Kel looked startled by his words and blushed but didn’t respond. Joren decided that it needed saying again, this time a little clearer, “Marry me, please? I have been spending the past few weeks trying to come up with the perfect words to say, to tell you have perfect you are to me. Your eyes… your lips… your strength… everything.” Joren began emphasizing his words with kisses.

Kel looked at him with wonder and surprise before nodding when he pulled away again. Joren kissed her deeply before pulling away again, “Say it aloud, please?” He begged.

Kel dragged him back down for another fierce his before moving her lips to his ear, “Yes, I will marry you.” She croaked out, her voice cracking slightly before she kissed his neck.

Joren allowed himself to indulge in his feelings at this point. He briefly noted that she wore a chain with a pregnancy charm and wondered where and when she got it but brushed the thought aside as he began kissing down her neck and to her chest. He then took a nipple into his mouth while his hands slid further down her body to push down her already loosened breeches and loin cloth. She lifted her hips to allow them to be pushed off and then kicked her legs to remove them completely. 

Her hand had performed a similar task, and Joren found it annoying to have to kick the articles of clothing off while he focused on her chest. He switched his mouth to the neglected nipple, one hand supporting his weight above Kel and the other pushing her legs wider, so he could settle between them. That hand then found her most private space and he pulled away from her suddenly, looking at her intently.

“Are you sure?” He asked, hesitantly. He didn’t want her to regret this. Kel’s nod with a gasped ‘don’t stop’ were all he needed before sliding two of his fingers between her folds as he allowed his mouth to roam slowly lower. 

He nipped at her hip and silently thanked his foresight into researching what exactly went into the act of love making. Kel was moaning her pleasure above him and gasped as he slipped his tongue between her folds, sucking on her clitoris while he plunged her fingers deeper until he heard a gasp of surprise with a little bit of pain in it. He had broken he maiden’s head. Her distraction was short lived though, as he continued his ministrations and she began gasping for more. When he felt the first flutters of her wall around his fingers he pulled away and crawled back above her. 

Joren kissed her deeply as he slid his manhood inside of her, her legs spread wide to accommodate him. He had to pause once he was inside of her, he had grown extremely hard while tending to her pleasure and he wanted to savor their first time together. He slowly began moving in and out gently, knowing it was her first time doing this as well. This lasted until she wrapped her legs around him and forced him to enter her with more force. 

As Kel used her position to meet his thrusts, Joren finally let go of his remaining restraint and received encouragement from her through gasped ‘yes’s and his name uttered with desire in it. He felt her walls begin to flutter around his cock again and this time he thrust harder into her. When she began to clench around him tightly, he fell over the edge into his climax, only vaguely aware that Kel had yanked him down and was kissing him with an intensity that he had never known before. After he had ridden out his climax, he slowly pulled out of her and rolled over onto his side, next to his lover.

Kel was breathing hard, her eyes slightly glazed over. Joren couldn’t help but chuckle at her blissed expression, realizing he felt the same way, “If I had known it would be this good, I might not have hesitated for so long.” He gasped out.

Kel looked at him in surprise and confusion. Joren smiled and kissed her, “I was being silly and trying to hold off until our wedding night. On that note, how soon can we get married?”

Kel blushed a deep red, knowing full well that he was being completely serious, “After my Ordeal.” Kel stipulated. It was something that didn’t surprise Joren in the slightest. 

He nodded, “We should probably get cleaned up and seek out your father. I don’t want to give any of the men in your family any further reason to impale me. I’m too happy right now.”

Kel blushed even deeper red and Joren, his eyes still roaming over her exposed form, realized that he wasn’t quite satisfied with a single round. He moved slower this time as he kissed her, rolling back on top and gasped in surprise when she boldly took hold of his manhood. The second round was languid and slow, the two exploring each other intently. Joren made a point of locating and kissing each scar on her body, regardless of how old. This time he did manage to savor the experience, noticing that she was taking a great deal of pleasure from the activity as well. When they finished a second time, Joren forced himself to get up and go to his privy to get his wash basin and a cloth. 

Kel covered her face in embarrassment as he used the water to clean her up. He pulled her hands away from her face and kissed her gently. When he was done with her, he rinsed himself off and then used another cloth to dry them both off. The couple couldn’t help but steal kisses as they dressed.

Before they left his rooms, Joren pulled Kel into another searing kiss that made her lean a little more heavily on him. He allowed her to regain her composure before unlocking the door to his room and taking her hand firmly in his. He paused, remembering something. Joren dragged her over to his desk and pulled out the ring he had made for her and smirked in satisfaction when it fit her ring finger perfectly. Kel was blushing as they walked through the palace. Her parents had a town house in the city, Kel had told him and she was free for the rest of the afternoon as well. 

They made their way into the city, Joren thankful that Kel’s family’s house was close to the palace. Their meeting with Piers and Ilane of Mindelan was brief, both having expected the conversation to take place soon. Baron Piers was happy with the marriage contract that Joren had written up, knowing exactly how against convention and the norm it went. Lady Ilane informed Joren that she would get into contact with Lady Verene the next day about planning the wedding. She also expressed some relief that they would have little trouble with getting Kel to fittings for her wedding gown with Lalasa being the obvious choice for the maker of the dress in question.

After her arrival, Joren found his time split between the King’s Council and wedding planning. Kel had even less time, having to help Princess Shinkokami with her wedding planning as well. However, here Lady Verene proved once more that she excelled at the task. She explained that weddings weren’t so complex that they needed constant input from Kel. Lady Verene and Lady Ilane also had teamed up with Princess Shinkokami and Lady Yuki in designing Kel’s shield for when she was knighted. There was more effort put into this than into the wedding, Joren realized. Of course, that made sense in a way. Kel’s Shield would be representative of not just her family fief, but Joren’s and her position as a female knight as well. 

Kel also had lessons with Lord Raoul as winter set in and Joren found quickly that the only time they were finding was at night. This made Joren even happier that he had taken rooms at the palace because it meant they could spend the nights together, even if it was only them sleeping together in the same bed. 

Neal and Merric returned from the north in early November. Joren spent some time helping Kel keep the two imaginative young men calm. Kel seemed a little anxious about her Ordeal as well, mostly in whether or not there was a second Knight for her instructions. Joren would do it if there were no other offers, but it would be looked on with a frown if he did so, given that they were betrothed. In December, she informed him that Lord Raoul had found a second knight, Turomot of Wellam had offered to help with the instructions. Joren raised an eyebrow at this but shrugged it off. 

It was, in truth, the best possible solution when Joren thought about it. No one could claim any interference if the Lord Magistrate sat with her through the vigil. The day before the start of Midwinter, the knight-masters preformed the ceremony to determine what order the squires went into the chamber. Kel was the last while Neal was first. To help distract the eldest squire, Kel and Yuki along with Joren took Neal into the city for entertainment at the winter fair and an early meal. By the time they left, they had to rush back to the palace as the sun set. 

Once they had returned Neal to the squire’s wing, Kel ended up keeping Lady Yuki company. Joren realized that Yuki was likely in love with Neal and he was then surprised to find that he wasn’t surprised at all. He left them to their privacy, not wanting to make the Yamani woman uncomfortable as she didn’t really know Joren very well. He met them in the morning at Kel’s rooms and walked them to the Chapel of Ordeal. It was crowded. When the iron door creaked open, Yuki grabbed Kel’s arm while Kel took Joren’s hand. 

Neal stumbled out, covered in sweat, face gray and eyes rimmed red from tears. Lady Alanna wrapped a blanket around him and led him towards the door. As they passed their small group, Neal stopped and looked to Yuki. The Yamani lady looked down, drew out her shukusen and offered it to him dull end first. Neal took the fan, his hands shaking and allowed Alanna to guide him out of the room. 

Neal was knighted that night with Yuki’s shukusen in his belt. Each morning, Joren joined Kel in watching her year-mates coming out of the chamber. They all looked worn but otherwise whole in body and mind. Merric was just before Kel and she, Neal, and Seaver spent the afternoon attempting to distract him. Joren didn’t intrude on the group as he had never really gotten close to Merric and Seaver and didn’t want to seem like he was forcing himself on them. 

In the morning, after Merric came out of the Chamber, shaken but fine, Kel had asked Joren to leave her to herself for the day. Joren reluctantly gave in to her wishes but not before informing her that he did want to see her before her vigil. Kel had agreed to his request reluctantly. Kel spent most of the day outside the palace, seeking quiet, Joren suspected. When she did return, he kissed her fiercely and told her to remember that no matter what, he loved her, he had no doubt that she would survive her Ordeal and in two weeks they would be married.

Kel smiled weakly and kissed him once more before making him leave her. He was surprised to find Paxton, Neal, and Merric surround him at his door that night, offering to keep a vigil of his own with him. He accepted and Raoul joined them after he finished giving Kel her instructions. He brought Kel’s sparrows and Jump with him. When Jump claimed Joren’s lap, he was surprised but decided that he was better off accepting the dog’s offering of mutual comforting. It was hardly the first time the Jump had taken that spot.

The others fell asleep in his comfortable armchairs eventually, Raoul taking Joren’s bed. Joren couldn’t sleep himself but found that his lap became a nest for Jump and the sparrows. When the sun rose, he woke the others. They all went to change while Joren did the same and then he headed for the Chapel. The door was closed, Kel already in the chamber. He took a seat at the front and just a few minutes later was joined by Kel’s parents and his own mother. Lord Raoul was next, sitting on his other side. 

As they waited, the Chapel filled, the crowd far larger than it had been any of the other mornings. No doubt, Joren thought, because this was The Girl’s Ordeal. People wanted to see if she would survive. He almost wanted to yell at those who were there out of curiosity to get out, declare they had no right to be there. That temptation was all but forgotten when the Chamber creaked open and Kel stumbled out. She was caught by Raoul who had stood as the door opened. Joren joined him in a flash and they wrapped a blanket around her before leading her away to clean up, eat and rest. 

That evening, the king struck each of Kel’s shoulders with the flat of his sword and then tapped her crown, “You are dubbed Lady Knight, Keladry of Mindelan. Remember your vows and service to this Crown. Remember your promise of chivalry.”

Kel’s expression was one of stubborn determination. Her mother cried tears of joy and Lady Verene looked proud of her soon-to-be daughter-in-law. Kel received hugs from her father, mother, and Joren before Raoul directed her to look at the dais where the king had stepped aside to reveal the queen, Buri, and Princess Shinkokami holding a cloth-covered shield. When they removed the cover, Joren smirked slightly.

It was a merger of the Mindelan and Stone Mountain devices. Both had light blue fields, so the Stone Mountain’s dark gray mountain was set behind a light gray owl with wings outstretched. An added touch was that the owl hovered over crossed glaives of cream and gold. It also had a distaff border, an outer blue border with an inner gray one. Kel would be the first knight since before women were banned from combat to have a distaff border. It was neatly done, and he felt a great deal of approval over it.

The ladies helped her slide the shield onto her arm snuggly. 

“Wear it in health and victory. Now, show the nice people,” Queen Thayet instructed Kel who obeyed. 

Joren waited with a large group of Kel’s family and friends for Kel as she put her shield away. They were to have a celebration in the city’s best eating-house. They were finishing with their horses when Kel came out with Lady Alanna and announced the lady would be joining them. Joren smiled and handed her the reigns to Hoshi. She whispered that Lady Alanna had been her mysterious benefactor and Joren smiled again before mounting his horse.


	16. Winter 460

The next two weeks were a blur of activity for the couple. There were last minute fittings for the wedding and arrangements that needed to be made. Lady Ilane and Lady Verene were keeping Kel locked away with the Princess and Lalasa as they completed the finishing touches. Joren grumbled to Neal, who had been decided on as his best man, what with Cleon in the north, about how little he was seeing of Kel.

“I swear, when my sisters married, there wasn’t nearly this level of fuss,” Joren muttered the day before the wedding. 

“Well, tonight, you are going to have to allow yourself to be distracted. We have a night of celebration to participate in. We’re going to get drunk as can be and enjoy ourselves. No need to worry about hangovers either as I already have packets for a tea to relieve them in the morning and have already given them to the appropriate people,” Neal responded firmly. 

Joren reluctantly obeyed. He had only agreed to a stag party because Kel had insisted on it to help relieve the stresses of his responsibilities in politics these days. He had insisted that there be no women, not even for entertainment, present. Such women held little appeal and, in his mind, would be garish the night before he married the woman he loved. The others had agreed easily, none wishing to face the wrath of a lady knight, much less one of Kel’s caliber. 

He followed Neal down into the city were a small eating house had been rented out for the evening. There, the others were already present. Raoul, Zahir, Merric, Paxton, and surprisingly Garvey had drinks and were waiting. Zahir had come over to Joren and explained that Garvey had asked to join them in order to repair their former friendship. Joren nodded uneasily but accepted the man’s presence.

Raoul offered a toast as the eating house staff brought out food for everyone, “Tomorrow, one noble in Tortall will prove he is one of the wisest men in the kingdom. Lady Knight Keladry is kind, compassionate, beautiful, and a master strategist. She will, I have no doubts, lead our country to new heights of respect and allow us to move forward into a new era. One which will see greater equality and progress for our people for generations to come. Lord Joren has chosen to marry Lady Keladry, proving that he has outwitted a great number of men in his choice. To Lord Joren and Lady Keladry.”

Everyone, even Garvey, raised their glasses and drank to the toast. After this, they all ate and then the drinking and discussions continued. Frequent toasts were made. Some teasing proceeded as well until Garvey stood and held his glass up, indicating he intended to make a toast. Everyone fell quiet, Neal’s expression was concerned but Joren waved for him to allow it, “I have to admit some surprise that a day like today should have ever come. Once upon a time, Joren made every attempt to bully Lady Keladry into quitting in her quest to gain knighthood. Looking back, I think those in our group of friends had no idea of what she would be capable of, what the new Lady Knight would exhibit in skills these days. Let it never be said that I can’t admit to being wrong. Joren has certainly admitted it. So, while I still can’t say that I believe ladies belong in combat, Lady Keladry, much like Lady Alanna, has proven that sometimes, one’s gender can be overcome if effort, determination, and the circumstances are right. So, to Lady Knights, Gods know there are going to be a lot more to come now that two women have proven it possible and even more ladies are already putting concentrated effort into making it a new fact of life.”

Everyone seemed surprised by the toast, but none would refuse to toast to Lady Knights. Joren nodded at Garvey that he accepted his middling offering of a truce and the other knight left soon after, not nearly as drunk as the rest were becoming. Neal eventually called a halt for the night and they all stumbled back to the palace, piss drunk. 

Joren woke the next morning with a pounding headache as his valet opened his curtains and groaned when his valet came over to him with a cup of tea, still scalding hot. Joren was coaxed into drinking it quickly and then sighed in relief when it began to work immediately. Once the pounding in his head passed, a tray of food was placed in front of him. He ate it slowly, still waiting for his stomach to fully settle, though he knew that it wouldn’t today. He was simply too nervous. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kel paced back and forth in her rooms when Yuki, Shinko, Lalasa and her mother entered. She had pure panic in her eyes which made the women giggle a little at her. Ilane set the tray of food they had brought with them aside and forced her daughter to sit.

“Now, tell us, what is wrong?” Ilane asked, sitting next to her daughter and taking her hand.

“What if this is a mistake? I’m so young, I just got my shield, what if I regret marrying Joren?” Kel’s voice was in panic.

“Do you love Joren?” Yuki asked suddenly.

Kel nodded mutely. She knew that she loved him, he had become one of her pillars of support along with her friends and family. The difference was that he was different than the others. She couldn’t fully understand how he saw her as beautiful, even though he had made it clear in multiple ways that he did. He had never pushed her for more than she was ready for. Even this, the wedding, he had told her he could wait if she wanted. She was the one to push for it to be before she headed off for war. She had been allowed to initiate their more intimate moments. He had made his love obvious and unconditional, he had shown patience, waiting three years of courtship to marry her, even while she was on the border the past summer. Of course, she loved him.

“Then it can’t be a mistake. Most young ladies are married by your age and they without the benefit of years of knowing their spouses in advance. Joren has taken every precaution to ensure that you don’t feel trapped. Your marriage contract gives you freedoms that most noblewomen couldn’t even dream of. He has shown you a level of devotion that would make other women the country-wide envious of you. He doesn’t even look twice at other young women, even when they flaunt themselves before him. I doubt you will come to regret it. You will be too happy with him to do so,” Ilane stated, feeling her daughter relax. 

Keladry nodded her agreement. Joren had never strayed from his affections once he had declared them. He had never hesitated to show her that he loved her. She glanced over to his first presents to her, weaponized hair sticks, something both beautiful and deadly. It recognized the warrior and the woman in her. She had specifically requested for her wedding dress to match with them. 

Lalasa placed the food in her lap and Kel nibbled slowly at the meal, knowing that she had to eat now for she would need her strength to fortify her. She didn’t really taste anything she ate but she ate it all the same. After that, a bath was prepared, and she blushed while her friends and mother remained present while she bathed. The water was scented with lavender and they ensured that she fully cleaned herself before letting her out. When she was done, Kel was dried off and forced into her small clothes, shift, and a dressing gown. 

Lalasa sat her down in front of her dressing table and began to work on her hair, which had grown out to a little past her shoulders. She knew that it would need to be cut before she left for the border, the Chamber’s task still firmly in her mind despite the excitement of her wedding. Lalasa was tugging out the tangles from Kel’s sleep and bath while Yuki had sat in front of her, opening different face paint lids. Kel didn’t usually wear the stuff as she found it a waste of time but today it was to be expected. 

Lalasa finished combing Kel’s hair out and took a curling iron from its place very close to the hearth fire. The seamstress used a cloth to wipe any potential soot off the iron, a second was still by the fire, and carefully began to wrap Kel’s hair around it so as to not burn Kel or herself. Each section of hair was curled and then pinned up, being added to an intricate design. The two curling irons were alternated as Lalasa worked. When she was finished, Kel’s hair was a mass of curls contained in a low bun. Yuki had also finished but wasn’t allowing Kel to see her face just yet. 

Ilane forced Kel to stand and then tugged off her dressing gown. Lalasa had taken hold Kel’s wedding dress and was now standing on the chair Kel had been sitting on before. Kel was ordered to raise her hands above her head and obeyed. Together, the four other women carefully guided the wedding gown over her head without disturbing their work on her hair and face. Once they finished with the difficult part, Lalasa tightened the ties of the dress and then checked Kel’s hair to ensure it hadn’t been disturbed. 

With a nod, Lalasa handed over the elegant hair sticks and Shinko and Yuki slid them into the appropriate places. Ilane slid garnet earbobs into Kel’s ears, having insisted on piercing them weeks ago. Then, a delicate gold and garnet necklace went around Kel’s neck to complete the ensemble. When Ilane finally turned her daughter to face the full-length mirror, Kel gasped. She could hardly recognize the young lady she saw in the mirror. For the first time, she got a glimpse of what she would look like had she taken the route of most noblewomen. It was clear that she, in truth, was very similar in appearance to Patricine, though perhaps a little taller than her eldest sister.

Yuki had kept the face paint light and simple, enhancing what was there. Her hair pulled away from the face just enough to show her strong features and accent it just right. The dress’s long flowing sleeves concealed her well-muscled arms but showing almost to the shoulders and the dress cut to show that she did have a figure, even if it wasn’t as curvy as most of the court ladies, and then flared out into a flowing skirt. It was clearly a combination of Yamani and Tortall styles that fitted Kel surprisingly well. 

“Well, if half the men in attendance at the wedding aren’t envious of Lord Joren after seeing you like this, it is only because they are infatuated with their wives or lady loves,” Lady Ilane smiled smugly at her daughter in the mirror. “I personally think it is quite a shame your elder brothers and their wives can’t attend. Adalia and Oranie should be here soon though and I suspect they will be just as smug about this towards other ladies of the court as I am.”

Kel blushed just as a knock on the door sounded. Ilane opened it to let in her sisters and father. Piers let a few tears slide at the sight of his youngest daughter in her wedding dress. Adalia and Oranie did appear smug as Kel’s mother predicted. Oranie made Kel sit for a quick sketch so that it could be sent to Patricine and her husband, Demadina and her husband, and their brothers and their wives. Oranie was quite skilled at drawing like her mother and finished quickly, informing Kel that she intended to make it into a painting to be sent to their siblings. 

By this point, it was almost time for the wedding and her sisters both gave her light pecks on the cheek before exiting to go to the Mithran and Goddess Chapel in the palace that was often used for noble weddings. A veil, the first Kel had ever worn, was carefully fixed onto her head and the rest escorted her to a chamber near the Chapel that was intended purely to hold the brides before the start of a wedding. Lalasa and Kel’s mother gave her light pecks before leaving. Kel was now with just her father and her bridesmaids. 

They heard people walking past their chamber, obviously going into the chapel to observe the wedding. Kel was once more a bundle of nerves, pacing back and forth in the room. Her nerves weren’t uncertainty anymore, they were more to do with her wondering how others would think when they saw her, what Joren would think.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Joren paced, dressed in a tunic of blue and gray, his family colors. Neal, Roald and Lady Verene waited with him as he paced. Once and a while, Neal would glance out the door of the chamber to look into the chapel. When it was mostly full, Neal escorted Lady Verene to her seat at the front of the side for Joren’s family and friends. He then returned and he, Roald and Joren entered the chapel. The three of them went to the right of the Mithran Priest and Goddess Priestess that stood at the alter in the room. The palace bell chimed, indicating the time was an hour before noon. 

Joren shifted, straightening as the musicians began to play and the doors to the chapel were opened. Princess Shinkokami entered with flowers in her hands, followed by Lady Yuki, both moving to the left of the priest and priestess. The music changed a bit and then Kel entered with her father. The veil covered her face partially, but Joren’s jaw dropped slightly before he recovered his dignity and straightened himself further. When Kel and her father finally reached him, Joren was already fighting the fidgeting, his desire to go to her nearly overwhelming. 

He nearly sighed in relief as Kel’s callused hand was passed into his own. He gripped it possibly a little too tightly as they turned and knelt before the priest and priestess for the opening prayers. Kel’s grip on his hand was also strong though, so Joren didn’t loosen his own. After the prayers, the priest and priestess anointed them, and they then stood. They exchanged vows and then rings. When the veil was finally lifted for the kiss to seal their marriage, Joren gasped lightly, not noticing that those closest to the alter also gasped at Kel’s beauty. If his kiss was just a little beyond what was appropriate, he didn’t care, even if Roald did have to clear his throat to break the spell that Kel had Joren under.

He beamed, gleefully at Kel as they turned to the crowd attending their wedding and the Priest and Priestess presented them as the Lord and Lady of Stone Mountain. Joren clung to her hand on his arm while they walked down the aisle and the wedding feast seemed to pass in an almost haze. He absentmindedly accepted congratulations from the guests and barely registered the toasts in their honor. Joren could barely take his eyes off Kel all afternoon and when they made their exit, to the teasing and cheers of their wedding guests, Joren felt his pulse quicken. 

This night wouldn’t be like those before. Kel wouldn’t have to leave before dawn, hiding their interactions. While they had celebrated, Kel’s things had been transferred to his rooms and he would be waking up to her in his arms in the morning and for every morning until she left for the north. When they reached their rooms, Joren kissed Kel intensely before pulling away and then sat her at her dressing table. 

He pulled out the hair sticks, gently putting them aside before taking off the earrings and the necklace, if his hands lingered on her neck and shoulders it wasn’t commented on by Kel. Once they were placed into Kel’s jewelry box, Joren got to work on removing the numerous hair pins until her curls tumbled down, caressing her shoulders. He grabbed her comb, running it through her hair carefully, undoing any potential tangles. 

Kel had wiped the face paint off while Joren worked and stood when he was done. He made her face away from him as he loosened the ties on her dress and assisted her out of it carefully. He then laid it over the chair she had been sitting on before pulling her close and kissing her with a fiery passion. Within seconds, Kel was tugging his tunic and shirt off while he pulled off her underdress. The two were quick to finish undressing each other and falling into their bed with a tumble of giggles. Both were passionate in their love making that night. 

The two had been promised two days of privacy after their wedding before they both had to get back to their duties. Once they were truly sharing a bed, Joren noticed that Kel had nightmares several times a week. He asked her about it, but Kel would tell him nothing more than that she couldn’t talk about it, making it clear that they were from her Ordeal. Joren had several other things to become accustomed to as well. Jump and Kel’s sparrows had apparently slept with her during her training and her marriage didn’t seem to impact that arrangement in the minds of the animals at all. It was odd but Joren accepted it as a part of being with Kel, even if he had to be more careful getting out of bed in the mornings.

She had also become increasingly restless. Her training as a knight took up much of her time during the day and Joren was often in conference with the king and his other advisors. Kel often woke early and had a routine that Joren was getting accustomed to waking up to. Her pattern dances meant that he didn’t risk getting out of bed until she was done with them, even if he did need to use the privy. 

One morning, just before dawn, Kel’s tossing and turning woke Joren. When she got up and carefully slid out from under the blankets, a few muffled cheeps of protest made Joren smile tiredly as she whispered sorry to them, not realizing he was awake. She went to the shutters and opened them, revealing that the sun hadn’t risen yet, only a little light came through to frame her tall figure. She had cut her hair short again after the wedding but Joren didn’t mind, it was part of who she was. Her strong figure made him smile warmly, even as he tugged the blankets up further, only wearing a loincloth underneath them. 

He heard Kel gasp, before a male voice asked if he startled Kel. Kel glared before speaking, “Get out of here, you nasty thing! Shoo!”

Joren raised his eyebrows at this before the male voice sounded again, “Is that any way to greet a future companion? You people are getting ready to stage an entertainment for our benefit up north. You’ll be seeing a lot of us this year.”

Joren rose up in the bed at this and began to slide out from under the covers despite the cold air let in by Kel’s having the shutters open, “Not if I can help it,” Kel responded before walking across the room and retrieving her bow and arrows. 

She had stubbed her toe so Joren grabbed a candle before taking it over to the hearth to light, bringing light into the room as she returned to the window. She sighed as she unstrung her bow after looking outside again. 

“Sorry to have woken you. There was a Stormwing outside,” Joren joined her at the window to see it now on the stable roof. It cackled as it flipped its tail at them before flapping off awkwardly. “I hate those things.”

Joren wrapped his arm around her shoulder briefly before shuddering in the cold air. He went to stir up the fire before putting more clothing on. He sat on the bed while Kel took down her glaive and began her morning pattern dance. Jump went out one of the windows as she worked to empty his bladder and the sparrows all vacated the bed as well while the sun rose. When she finished, they went to breakfast before going their separate ways for the day. 

Joren was researching inheritance laws for the king and Kel went to her lessons with Raoul. The man was seeing to her continuing education in command. Joren had made a side quest for himself while working on the king’s pet project. King Jon wanted to change the laws of inheritance for the royal family to the first born regardless of gender. Joren was considering presenting a proposal to widen that to all the nobility, or at least, loosen up the laws that required sons for inheriting certain titles. It was an idea he had been thinking on for a while and he had worked hard on how he would present it to the King and other nobles. They had attempted it a few years before, but there were too many conservatives against it at the time as it wasn’t well planned out. Joren had done in-depth research for it this time, though.

He knew that he would have to put it forward in a way that would make the whole of the nobility agreeable to it. He knew of at least a few conservative families that would now jump at the chance of backing the idea. Wyldon of Cavell had no sons, Duke Turmont of Wellam’s only son had died two years before with only a daughter from his marriage and the Duke had no other children, so his only heir was a ten-year-old girl by the name of Belinda who had started her page training this year under the Duke’s own orders. Three other families without sons had done the same, one of them was conservative. With Wyldon’s two girls, their friend, and these new young ladies, there were now seven girls in page training. Kel had broken the stalemate between conservatives and progressives, the favor had tipped steadily towards the progressives now.

Joren had a list of names, people he had written either letters or notes to, depending on how far away they were from him. He had recorded the information on inheritance laws and the precedents set for each and every family. This day, he was finally prepared on both projects and had asked for an audience with Duke Turmont and King Jonathan. He carried his papers and the books for the laws in question with the right pages marked, down the halls of the palace to the room that Jonathan had agreed for the meeting to take place in. He chuckled at the thought that he had become such an academic and politician, as when Kel had first arrived for page training, he had struggled with his lessons. 

It was still early in the day when he arrived, the other two not joining him just yet. He set his things down and joined the meeting in an adjacent room. There he was informed that Maggur Rathhausk was the new king of Scanran. It was unfortunate news. It meant that the risks that summer would be greater, especially for Kel, who would be on the front lines. When the meeting ended, Duke Turmont and Jon followed him into the room he left the books and papers in. 

Joren started off with what the King wanted. Turmont frowned as he listened to Joren’s explanations of what King Jonathan wanted and then showed him the precedent for it. The duke nodded slowly, reluctant to agree but knew that it was a sound argument and agreed to look further into the possibility of changing the law. Then Joren slid his proposal for his idea over and they looked at him in confusion before taking the papers and beginning to read them.

Turmont’s expression turned thoughtful as he read. Joren took that as a good sign. Jonathan looked surprised as he read. When both finished Jonathan set the papers down, “You do realize there is going to be a lot of resistance to a legal change of this proportion.”

Joren shook his head, “Not as much as you’d think. This is the list of the noble families without male heirs or their sons have no male heirs. Some of them lost their only sons in the Immortals war, some to illness, and even more simply didn’t have any to begin with. A lot of them have cousins, brothers, or nephews that they really don’t want to inherit their Fiefs. Duke Turmont, you have such a situation, correct? Your son died two years ago of an illness that wasn’t caught in time, he was your only child and your only grandchild, Belinda just started her Page training?”

“You did your research. Well, your Majesty, Lord Joren does have a very good point. He has even written in ways to protect family linages. I suppose it could be sold as a way to preserve older noble houses in the event that a male heir isn’t born. That the law is being put forth by Stone Mountain will also place a bit of pressure on families that are arrogant enough to pretend that they would never go without a male heir, given his recent marriage to a strong, healthy young woman of fertile background and having a younger brother to inherit if needed,” Turmont’s ready agreement startled the king.

“Well, you certainly have a solid argument. If you can get enough noble backing for it, Lord Joren, we will put it to a vote at this summer’s congress. A word of advice though, before it gets presented to congress, make sure you have every defense possible for it. The idea that if a woman is to inherit the full title, she must have her Knighthood or have a proven skill in combat is a clever one. It will keep men from claiming those women aren’t fit for the titles they claim. It also backs the precedent that most male heirs also have knighthoods themselves,” Jonathan nodded his approval. 

Joren relaxed as they all stood. Turmont informed Joren and the King that he would have his scribes looking into the finer details of the laws that would be changed and refine the proposals. Joren saw Kel briefly during lunch, though she was clearly uncomfortable, but he didn’t have time to talk with her before rushing off to council meetings and she went to her lessons on learning the Scanran language. Joren focused on the issue at hand, the reports from the border and the like. 

That evening, he filled in Kel and their group of friends on what was happening during supper. He could only share so much information, but he let them know what he could. He didn’t want them caught off guard. That night, Kel stayed up reading, making Joren go to bed on his own. He frowned at the unusual behavior, but he let her have her peace for now, hoping that she would talk to him when she was ready.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Joren was well asleep by the time Kel left their rooms. She was careful to slip out quietly to ensure she didn’t wake him. The Chamber had set her a task, but she needed to know more information. The dreams of the killing machines and the nothing man woke not only Kel but Joren as well, though only because she would thrash in her sleep. She had to visit the Chamber again, as much as she disliked the idea. Quite simply, she needed more information and she needed it now, before she received orders from the king. Jump had followed her and wagged his tail as she entered the Chapel of Ordeal. 

Kel looked around the room and took in all the details before ordering Jump to stay in the aisle and then walked up to the Chamber of Ordeal slowly. The iron door opened for her silently. She shook with fear but entered the cold windowless room. 

She stood in a bare plain without anything to be seen, just bare earth, “Where is this place? Do you live here?” She asked aloud. This wasn’t her Ordeal, so she could talk this time, or at least she thought so.

‘It is as close as your human mind can perceive it’. The Chamber’s eerie voice sounded in Kel’s head though not her ears.

“I don’t see why you haven’t done something with it. No furnishings, no trees, or birds. If you’re going to bring people here, you ought to make things look nicer,” Kel blurted out before mentally kicking herself for criticizing the thing that held her within its power.

‘Mortal, what do you want?’ The Chamber seemed to lose patience with her. Its face formed in the dirt in front of her. It was lined and sexless, lips so thin they might as well not be there at all. ‘The task you have been set is perfectly clear. You will know it when you find it.’ 

Kel shook her head, “That’s no good. I need to know when and where. Also, I need another look at the little Nothing Man, please.”

Immediately she found herself in a living image of a room that she had only gotten a corner view of before. Unlike the previous vision and her dreams, this place felt solid and real. Behind her there was a forge with fiery coals. An anvil and metal working tools nearby, a wall of mage tools, a large stone worktable with gutters on the sides. The table covered in black stains. The room smelt of herbs, damp stone, mold and hints of old blood.

Among it all was the scrawny and fidgeting Nothing Man standing next to the worktable, chewing on a fingernail. Kel recoiled before the Chamber assured her that she couldn’t be seen. The Nothing Man was exactly as she remembered him. Nothing new was learnt from this viewing of him. 

A killing machine came out of the shadows dragging a dead child. It also looked exactly as she remembered from her Ordeal and her own encounter with one. It was the stuff of nightmares, particularly hers. She got a good, close look at all the parts of the killing machine as it moved about and cringed. With a flap of the Nothing Man’s hand the killing machine left the room. 

Then a big man came in, tall enough to have to bend a little to get through the door. His gray-blond hair hung past his shoulders, a carefully maintained beard, brown eyes, long straight nose, a woodsman’s clothing with a leather jerkin. The man had an axe and dagger. He stopped before the Nothing Man.

“We just shipped twenty more to King Maggur. That leaves us with ten, Master Blayce,” He spoke in Scanran. “Barely enough to make it to spring.”

Kel memorized the man’s features and Blayce’s name, “It’ll do, Stenmun.” Blayce replied. His voice was whiny and Scanran horrible. “Maggur knows…”

Kel appeared back in the Chamber’s dreary home. She glanced around and thought she saw a tree in the distance. She glared at the face in the dirt, “Where is he? Look, Maggur Rathhausak is king now. He’ll march once Scanra thaws out. The king will be sending the army, that includes me, north as soon as he can. You have to tell me where to look so I can leave before that happens! If I go now, I won’t be disobeying the king. We mortals call that treason.”

‘I cannot,’ the Chamber replied. Kel swore, the Chamber explained. ‘I am not a part of your idea of time. You mortals are like fish swimming in a globe of glass. That globe is your world. You do not see beyond it. I am all around that globe, everywhere at once. I am in your yesterdays and tomorrows just as I am in your today and it all looks the same to me. I only know you will find yourself in that one’s path. When you do, you must stop him. He perverts life and the living. That must not continue. I thought you would like the warning.’

Kel crossed her arms, “So, you don’t know when I’ll see that piece of human waste. The Nothing Man, Blayce. Or that warrior of his, what’s his name? Stenmun?”

‘No,’ The Chamber was blunt.

“And you don’t know where they are?” Kel questioned.

‘Your ideas of countries and borders are meaningless to me.’

“But you thought I’d be happy to know that the one who’s making the killing devices, who’s murdering children, will come my way. Sometime, someplace,” She questioned, annoyed now.

‘You must right the balance between mortals and the divine. That balance is my reason to exist. That creature defiles life and death. I require you to put a stop to it. Your satisfaction is not my concern.’ 

Kel fought the urge to scream. The Chamber forced her out of it as she asked if she could speak of this encounter. He said she could but informed her that they already knew the name Blayce, they just couldn’t find him. She cursed again.

Kel and Jump went back to her suite of rooms shared with Joren. She stood over their bed and hesitated before stripping down and climbing under the covers. He shifted and wrapped his arms around Kel. When they woke in the morning, Kel told him about her conversation with the Chamber. Joren’s expression changed several times but eventually settled on resignation. They had agreed that while the King might not let him fight, Kel shouldn’t be denied the right. He now had no choice but to accept that and provide her with everything he possibly could. 

He did question her about the details she had gotten from the vision and cursed. Kel looked at him in concern, “What is it?”

“Every encounter we have had reports of, the killing machines were animated by children’s souls. Any refugee children on the border will be an appetizing target for Maggur and Blayce. We need to get them away from the danger areas as quickly as possible. I’ll talk to Mother, and when you all head north when the snows thaw, I will head to Stone Mountain and see about what space we can make for them, it won’t be as far as they should be from the border but Stone Mountain is damned near impregnable as a fortress and can fit all three surrounding villages within its walls if needed,” Joren explained as they dressed. “We should be able to relocate the most vulnerable refugees sooner rather than later. I just need to make sure everything is arranged properly and to get other lords to do similarly.”

Later that morning, Kel, along with her year-mates and any other free knights in the palace were summoned to the throne room and informed they were now in the crown’s service for the length of the war. Joren set aside funds for Kel and reviewed every piece of equipment she owned. If any of them were in less than perfect condition, he purchased replacements. He even went so far as to buy her a new, Raven Armory crafted Glaive. A week later, he and Kel were packing their things, the Army could move out, though it would be hard going. Joren would travel with them most of the way north before breaking off and going to Stone Mountain to assess what he had available in terms of resources.


	17. Early Spring 460

Joren shivered in the morning cold as he saddled his horse, Kel next to him, saddling Hoshi. It was the first week of March and they were heading north. Jump and the sparrows rode with Kel. When they rode past the bluffs on the north of the city, Joren heard Kel murmur a prayer to Mithros before moving onto the Goddess and then one to a Yamani god. After that, Lord Raoul drew everyone’s attention by swearing and pointing in rage to a swarm of Stormwings, all going north as well.

Joren and Kel settled into the slow grind of going north through the mud and slush. They were joined by Neal and Roald, both of whom complained and were bitter about their separation from their betrotheds, whom they were in love with. Joren could sympathize, facing the separation he would soon need to endure from his wife. Roald had been planning on marrying this spring, but the wedding had to be put off for the war and thus garnered a bit more sympathy from the married couple.

Joren had already made Kel promise to write him as soon as she knew where she was posted, contemplating how best to ensure her safety without insulting her ability to fight. He wanted to have a family with her when this war was over and this prediction from the Chamber unsettled him to no end. Joren refocused on the road they traveled. The horses of knights broke the snow and ice, the wagons of armor and supplies compacted it and made it traversable for the foot soldiers. It was slow going, the pace set by the men on the ground marching. 

Fortunately, there were ample dry quarters for the military, enough troops went north regularly, so it was frequently that local farmers allowed the soldiers to bed down in barns for extra coin, while Officers and Knights slept in crown wayhouses. Between Joren’s rank and the fact that Kel was female and his wife, they also got their own room at each wayhouse too. With warm beds and ample food, it was a welcome relief from the bitter cold. 

Kel had taken to whispering to Joren her wish that the Stormwings only found cold, damp perches to rest for the night with ice covered wings and frostbitten human flesh, making him chuckle. When they had been on the road for ten days, they stopped in Queensgrace for the night. There were three large wayhouses there and everyone got rooms for themselves. Joren smirked as Kel relaxed into a hot bath after they had seen to their horses. When she finished, he cleaned up in the cooling water and they both dressed before going down to dinner.

All those present were too tired to converse, instead they focused on their food. Kel and Joren were no exception. When Kel finished, she collected a few apples for their horses and excused herself. Joren debated joining her before deciding to do so. They would have precious little time alone for the rest of the journey they were together for. 

He took the same route as her, cutting through the kitchens to minimize his time in the cold. When he entered, Kel had a man’s wrist in her iron grasp. It was the innkeeper and he started, “You dare…” The man cut off when he realized that Kel was a knight and a female at that. 

“This’s no business of yours, lady,” The man had adjusted his tone and was attempting to free himself from Kel’s grasp while Joren approached quietly. He didn’t want the man aware of his presence just yet. “Look, he’s allus ditchin’ chores, never minds his work. Likely he’s out here to steal. Leave me to deal with him.”

Joren noticed a boy now, as he got closer. The child huddled in a corner of an empty stall before getting up, spitting at the innkeeper’s feet, and bolting across to the next stall. Joren and Kel shouted, “No!” In unison, knowing the horse, Peachblossom’s, temperament.

The boy slipped in manure and only stopped when he was under the horse’s nose, “Peachblossom, leave him be! Boy, he’s mean. Get out now!” Kel practically shrieked. The gelding learnt to be around others like a proper horse, but he was dangerous at the best of times.   
Peachblossom lowered his snout to sniff at the boy that remained perfectly still underneath him. Both Kel and Joren watched in horror as the horse sniffed at the boy, waiting for the cry of agony when Peachblossom finally bit. Only the scream never came. The horse just continued to examine the boy.  
Joren’s jaw dropped in shock while the innkeeper still tried to free himself, not understanding what was happening, “Milady, you oughtn’t go between a man an’ his servants. I’ll never get him to do proper work now.” Kel had tightened her grip on the man now as she examined the boy.   
Joren, not holding onto the innkeeper, approached, and knelt near enough for a closer look without making himself a target for Peachblossom. He and the horse had come to a tenuous truce of sorts, Joren had to broker the agreement with the help of the wild mage, but he didn’t want to tempt fate. 

The boy was too small, skinny, visibly abused, and defiant as could be. Joren couldn’t help but take an instant liking to him. He was exactly the type of kid that would have stood up to Joren before he had gotten a divine wake-up slap to the face. As the boy stroked the horse’s snout and Joren chuckled, he looked over and met Kel’s eye, he could tell she was thinking the same thing he was. The boy had horse magic. Joren stood, straightening, and joining Kel. Her expression had turned to absolute rage. 

“Tell me he’s not your son,” Kel stated mildly. Joren could tell that she was controlling her rage, a skill that in a backwards way he had helped her perfect.

The innkeeper grimaced, “That stray pup? We took him in out of charity, fed and clothed him, gave him a home. He works here. I’ve the right to discipline him as I please.”

“You would lose that right if he weren’t forced to depend on you. He’d be long gone,” Kel’s voice was as pleasant as if she and Joren were having a casual conversation. Joren simply moved to stand behind her, his arms crossed in silent support.

“Let him starve? That would be cruel,” The innkeeper insisted, clearly meaning it but not understanding his violence was cruel as well. Joren felt his mind churning as Kel’s no doubt was. Horse mages were damned useful. If she took the boy north with her, it would be a level of protection for her. Peachblossom and Hoshi would be kept in prime condition with the boy around to care for them. Joren considered the idea as the innkeeper kept speaking, not understanding what would happen. 

Before Joren came out of his thoughts, Kel was demanding to know what the innkeeper had paid for the boy. Joren smirked, knowing his wife was about to buy the boy’s indentured contract.

“You can’t buy his contract. It ain’t for sale,” the innkeeper protested.

Kel dragged the man’s face to her own, suddenly very intimidating, “Either tell me, or I visit the magistrate tomorrow and you’ll have no say in the matter. This boy is an indentured servant, not a slave. Accept my coin now or have him taken with no pay tomorrow. It’s all the same to me.”

The innkeeper looked from Kel to Joren and found him as hard faced as she was. Kel released the man, knowing she had won, “Two copper nobles.” The man growled.

“One, only one, an’ I been workin’ for ‘im for three years,” The boy interjected, clearly understanding what was going on.

“Lyin’ little rat!” the innkeeper darted for the boy in Peachblossom’s stall. Joren didn’t even move to save the man as Peachblossom lunged and snapped, his teeth clacking shut just before the man’s nose. The man backed up too quickly and fell backward. 

Kel was already reaching into her belt purse before Joren stopped her and handed her the copper nobles he had already fished out of his own. She smiled at him, pleased at the gesture, and took them before holding them up for the innkeeper to see, “I’ll take his indenture papers before you have this. Get them, right now.”

The man moved quickly. Once he was out of sight, Joren relaxed, “I’ll go get Neal, so he can see to the boy.”

Kel nodded and accepted a quick kiss from him before he headed back to the wayhouse. It took him a few minutes to locate the knight playing a game of cards and Joren dragged him from his seat, explaining as he went. Neal rolled his eyes as they went back through the kitchens and to the stables. When they returned, Kel seemed to have the boy talking.

“Auld Eulama said I musta been a boon to someun, though she din’t know who,” The boy was saying as they approached. 

“Eulama?” Kel asked, Neal had frozen, staring at the scene before him.

“Midwife as reared me, best’s she knowed,” The boy gave as an explanation.

“Whose opinion is that? That she did the best she knew?” Kel asked curiously.

“All Queensgrace, lady. They all say’t. Way they talk, it din’t do me much good,” the boy inched forward toward Kel.

She pointed to her horse, “It’s not that long ago that I convinced him not to savage everyone in reach. I’ve known him eight years. I was sure he’d kill you.”

“Aww, he’s a good un,” the boy hugged Peachblossom’s right foreleg. “Ain’t nobody likes Alvik… me master there.”

The innkeeper arrived with a writing board, quill, ink pot, a sheet of grimy paper, sealing wax and a candle. Kel stood, briskly signed the boy’s indenture papers, handed over the coins, and watched the innkeeper also sign, then seal the document. As soon as Kel had the completed bill of sale in hand, Alvik fled.

The man leaving finally snapped Neal out of his stupor, “Kel, that monster has a boy under his belly.”

“That monster hasn’t touched him,” Kel replied. They all knew that Neal and Peachblossom didn’t get along so there was no point in attempting to change the other knight’s view of the horse. “Will you take a look at the boy? Tobe… Tobeis Boon, this is my friend, Neal, and my husband, Joren. Tobe, Neal is a healer. I want him to look at you.”

“Not while he’s in there,” Neal protested, Joren didn’t blame him.

The boy also responded at the same time, “He’s no healer, just some noble.”

“I’m a healer and a noble,” Neal glared at Tobe before turning to Kel. “What have you done now, Stone Mountain?”

Kel shrugged while Joren knelt down and worked on coaxing Tobe out from under the horse, “I need a servant. Tobe seemed to want a change, so I hired him away from the innkeeper.”

“Your mean he’s another one of your strays. Didn’t that griffin teach you anything?” Neal asked her before turning to Joren. “Why didn’t you stop her?”

Joren smirked before shrugging, “Peachblossom likes him. Besides, I’m smart enough to not waste my breath on the matter.”

“Griffin? You saw a griffin?” Tobe scooted out from under Peachblossom a little. 

Kel nodded with a smile, “I’ll tell you about it if you let Neal have a look at you.”

Tobe looked at him with suspicion, “Folk like him don’t touch the likes of me.”

“If you knew how I spent my squiredom, you’d know the likes of you are most of what I ended up touching,” Neal knelt down next to Joren, leaving the lord between him and Peachblossom. The boy scratched himself. “I can get rid of your lice and fleas.”

“Cannot,” Tobe denied.

“Can too. Handiest spell I ever learned,” Neal replied. Joren and Neal went about coaxing the boy out and then Joren watched as Neal healed the boy while Kel went to go order a bath and some food. Once the boy was healed, Joren escorted him to their room. Neal went back to the card game that Joren had dragged him from.

“Here we are,” Joren pushed him into the room and shut it behind him. Kel smiled at them and put on a coat and slicker along with a broad oiled hat. 

“Make sure he scrubs every part of himself before he eats,” Kel instructed before kissing Joren’s cheek. “I’m going to get him clothing from the supply wagons.”

Joren nodded and handed her a little more coin from his purse to help pay for it. Once she left the room he turned and looked sternly at Tobe, “That is your bath, strip down and get in. You heard Lady Kel. You don’t eat until you’re clean. Use the soap. I’m going to watch and make sure you’re squeaky clean.”

Tobe looked at Joren before going to the bath and sticking his finger in, “It’s hot!” Joren hid a smile at the boy’s dismay.

“Believe me, you’ll be grateful for hot baths in time, though you won’t always get them. Now you will clean yourself or I’ll clean you myself. My Lady Wife’s orders are to be obeyed. She won’t have dirty servants,” Joren fixed him with a stern look. He watched until the boy stripped down and slid into the tub with a yelp.

He then went and collected the tray of food from outside the room and set out one of his spare shirts and some drying cloths. He then eyed the boy who was climbing out. He looked clean so Joren passed the boy drying cloths. Once he was dry, Joren put the shirt on Tobe and sat him down to eat. As he ate, Tobe asked about Kel’s glaive and he explained what it was. He settled down onto the bed while the boy ate and allowed himself to nap while he waited for his wife’s return.

When she did, Tobe reacted well before Joren could, “I don’t care if you was drunk or mad or takin’ poppy or rainbow dream or laugh powder, you bought my bond and signed your name and paid money for me and you can’t return me to ol’ Alvik. If you try, I’ll run off ‘n’ steal ‘n’ when I’m caught, I’ll say I belong to you, so they’ll want satisfaction from you. I mean it! You can’t blame drink or drug or anything and then get rid of me because I won’t go.” When the boy had finally stopped, Joren was forcibly holding his laughter back with his hand.

Kel just stood there, waiting until the boy stopped, once he was done Kel asked a single phrase, “What was that about?”

“See?” The boy nearly screeched, causing Joren to cringe. “You forgot me already, me, Tobeis Boon, whose bond you bought tonight. I knew you was drunk or takin’ a drug or mad. But here I am an’ here I stay. You need me, to, to carry your wine jug, an’ cut the poppy brick for you to smoke, an’, an’ make sure you eat…”

Joren finally lost his battle and started laughing loudly, startling the boy, who had clearly forgotten Joren was even there at all. Kel raised an eyebrow at them both and spoke firmly in a calm tone, “Quiet.” Joren managed to choke back his laughter at her serious expression. Tobe’s mouth snapped shut as well which Joren knew was directly a result of Kel’s words.

She crouched before the boy and blew into Tobe’s face, Joren guessed so that Tobe could smell her breath, “I’m not drunk, I take no drugs, and if I’m mad, it’s in ways that don’t concern you. I went out to get you clothes, Tobe, like I said before leaving. You can’t go north wearing only a shirt. Besides, do you think my husband would allow me to buy your bond if I wasn’t in my right mind? Never mind allow me to go fight in a war?”

She tossed the sack of clothing directly on top of Joren and he chuckled, and went the teasing route, “Oh, I don’t know. You’re heading off to war, where the King won’t allow me to go. I had to promise the King, swear by Mithros, that I was going to Stone Mountain to see to our fief for him to allow me to leave with you all. I might have let you get him, so he could take care of you, especially if you weren’t in your right mind.”

Kel scowled at him but focused on freeing herself from her outerwear. When she struggled with the hat ties, Joren was up and undoing them for her, a tender look in his eyes. He passed it off to the boy while Kel took off her cloak and Tobe hung it up before kneeling to help Kel remove her boots, “I have clothes.” Tobe stated while yanking a boot off. Joren helped hold Kel steady during the process.

“I saw. I wouldn’t let a cat have kittens on them. I ought to take Alvik before a magistrate anyway. Your bond says you get two full suits of clothes, a coat, and a sturdy pair of shoes every year.”

“It does?” he asked, boot finally removed from her foot.

Kel pulled out the papers and pointed to the paragraph, “Right there. You can’t read, can you?” Kel asked after the boy frowned at them in confusion.

“Alvik said I din’t need no schoolin’, ‘acos I was too stupid to learn,” Tobe answered as he started to clean her boots. He at least knew how to do that much.

Joren shook his head in disbelief, Alvik was a prime example of a person too stupid to understand what they held in their hands, much like his own father. The man had a blatant wild mage, one who had good control over his magic in some semblance and refused to educate the boy to keep control over him. Instead, he beat the boy and made him do useless chores, completely wasting the boy’s potential. While he contemplated the inn-keeper’s stupidity, Kel was informing Tobe that he would be having lessons in reading and writing. The boy asked what she expected of him in return for all the things she planned for him. 

“Oh, that,” Kel’s expression showed she just realized how little she explained to the boy. “You’ll look after my horses and belongings, and in four years you’ll be free. For that, I’m duty bound to see that you are fed, clothed, and educated. We’ll settle things like days off later. You’ll learn how to clean armor and weapons. That ought to keep you busy enough.”

Joren resisted the urge to comment on how drowsy his wife clearly was. She finally ordered Tobe to bed and then to cover himself while she changed. Joren changed as well and was smirking while they settled into bed. Kel had another nightmare that night, Joren gently attempted to wake her, but didn’t succeed before Tobe was woken by her thrashing and muttering.

“Lady, what’s Blayce? What’s Stenmun?” The boy asked once Kel had calmed enough to realize he was there. 

“A nightmare and his dog. Go back to sleep,” Kel ordered tersely as she snuggled further into Joren. 

It was pissing rain in the morning, meaning the commanders decided against traveling in the mess. Kel fought a minor battle with Tobe over the need for more than one set of clothes and the necessity of shoes. It was a pittance for the sewing and shoe fitting, Stone Mountain was vastly wealthy, never mind that investment into Lalasa’s shop and the income for a serving knight meant Kel also had her own personal income that wasn’t anything to scoff at either. 

It stopped raining before the next day and with them on the move, Kel found a new battle with Tobe to fight, the boy refused to stay in the wagon out of sight or the damp, convinced that if he couldn’t see Kel, she might forget him. Joren sympathized with the boy, he had so little good care that he didn’t understand that Kel wasn’t the neglectful type. Tobe ended up settled behind Kel on her horse, while Joren and Neal silently laughed at her, the boy huddled under her cloak.

That night they lodged at Wolfwood, where they were stopping a few days. It was where Alanna and her troops were splitting off, and where Joren would have to split off for Stone Mountain, to his deep reluctance. Tobe was left to tend to the couple’s horses, Kel watching him briefly to ensure he did it properly, before they went to bathe. Neal questioned them about Tobe having wild magic with horses and Joren pointed out that Kel was the only person without wild magic that Peachblossom liked. Once they were clean, Kel located Tobe, ordered him to clean up and eat in the servant’s wing of the house, and to ensure he ate properly. Joren smirked in amusement at his wife’s hen pecking. She didn’t allow him or the others to skip vegetables either, not that that was an issue as he rather enjoyed them. 

Joren had to coax Kel into really eating as she was tired, and she didn’t eat properly when she was. It was during this that Cleon arrived, receiving a rousing chorus of greeting. Faleron asked why he was heading south. Cleon’s expression was grim. 

“I got a mage message asking me to come home soonest. You’ve heard there’s flooding in the south-west hills?” Cleon asked. He gave Joren a knowing look. 

“It’s bad. Father said a lot of fiefdoms lost their entire stores of grain. Yours was hit?” Faleron asked, his family lived near Cleon’s.

Cleon nodded, his mouth a grim line, “The Lictas river went over its banks and wiped out our stores-houses. I’ve got to help Mother raise funds, so our people can plant this year.”

Joren stood and gestured to Cleon to follow him. Cleon grimaced but did so. They went outside, but remained under the eaves, “If you need assistance, I can write a letter to my mother in Corus, to have you bring with you. We can loan you money if the money lenders won’t. I know you’re good for it.”

Cleon frowned again, “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t think you realize how bad the situation at Kennan is. The castle’s in massive disrepair, this blow is just a bad one in a long line of bad blows. My father and grandfather were both idiots when it came to management. My mother’s done her best to repair the damage but… Realistically, I have to marry Ermelian of Aminar. I knew it was unavoidable. We both did, it’s why I stepped back after we discussed liking Kel. She’s better off with you. You can give her the life she deserves.”

Joren smiled softly, “We married just after mid-winter. She’s now officially the Lady of Stone Mountain. My offer still stands. Use your bride’s inheritance to stabilize your fief, use my money to strengthen it. I’m going to need extra crops this year, I was going to offer to house some refugees at Stone Mountain and I don’t want to place the full burden on my people. We can think of it as an investment if you want. Use the money as an advance so you can buy extra seed. Use that seed to grow extra crops. Stone Mountain will buy up the extra crops to help feed our people. It’s sound management, Cleon. While my mountain produces plenty of precious metals and gems, it isn’t so good with the crops.”

“That’s not a bad idea. I’ll take you up on it. Thank you, Joren. I appreciate it,” Cleon offered a weak smile, though there was a tension that eased in him as well. 

“For an agreement of mutual benefit? Please, you will be resolving one of my concerns for next winter. I still need to make sure we get enough of what we need for the summer, but that’s one thing off my check list,” Joren smirked. “I’m nothing if not a strategist. How do you think I got the best woman in the kingdom?”

Cleon nodded with a snort, “Very true. Come on, it’s freezing out here.” They reentered with Cleon in a slightly better mood.

When they went back to the table, Cleon congratulated Kel on her marriage. He got a warm smile from Kel in response. When they went to bed that night, Joren explained his agreement with Cleon which earned him a firm, passionate kiss. Tobe gave them a bit of privacy, as they only had this one last night before separating. The boy roomed with Neal for the night while Joren made love to his wife repeatedly. Kel cried a bit afterwards, not happy with the separation, but understanding the necessity. Joren forced back his tears over the matter himself until she was asleep.

In the morning, Joren’s things were packed away and they bid each farewell. Joren gave Cleon a nod as he left with the Knights heading east. Joren would break off from them soon, meeting up with some of his own men-at-arms closer to Stone Mountain. He did give Kel one more passionate kiss before mounting his horse and leaving though. Cleon had the letter to Joren’s mother firmly and safely tucked away for his arrival in Corus. 

It took Joren another week to get to Stone Mountain, a lot of the snow was still present this far north, but he put up with it. When he arrived, Uncle Lionel was waiting and ready with the books. They needed to sort through exactly how much supplies they had at the ready and how much would be needed for the refugees. Joren made it clear that he wanted to prioritize families with young children and orphans. Once the lists of what would be needed were sorted, Joren allowed himself to review the profit revenue for the previous year and could tell that already, the fief was improving in profit. One of the things his father could never understand was that well-fed miners that were properly cared for worked harder and in turn that meant better profits. With that in mind, he got to work.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ten days after splitting off from Joren in Wolfswood, General Vanget haMinch met Kel’s group at Bearsford, the last fortress town on the Great North Road before the border. Vanget wasted no time giving out assignments. Two days after they reached Bearsford, Kel, along with the rest of the first-year knights, and fifty senior knights accompanied Duke Baird and healers, headed to Fort Giantkiller. Lord Wyldon was in command there. He was to give out their final postings. Lord Raoul rode with them for a couple of days before splitting off and heading to his new command at Fort Steadfast. 

When Kel asked Raoul about the locations of these forts, Raoul informed her that she was already aware of the location of Giantkiller, as it was the fort that they had built the previous summer. He then warned her to stay alive, after all, the wrath of Alanna and her mother notwithstanding, Joren would run him through if anything happened to his wife.

During the trip to Giantkiller, Duke Baird asked Kel to keep an eye out for Neal if they were posted together, as he was the last of his sons. When they reached fief Tirrsmont, they spent the night behind the walls. Kel was grateful that the noble overlooked her when Tirrsmont invited Duke Baird and two other senior knights to dine well while the rest of them barely were given anything. Instead they were jammed into the outer bailey with the starving refugees of the fighting from the previous year before. Kel didn’t want to be feasted while her comrades and the victims of the violence in the north were poorly fed. Kel and her friends ended up giving over their meager rations to the refugees who silently took them and fled. 

Kel barely resisted punching Quinden of Marti’s Hill when he called them all softhearted. The next day they reached Giantkiller. It was familiar territory for Kel, to her relief. The fort itself had received vast improvements, turned from a temporary home into a fortress. She was greeted enthusiastically by Owen. He gave excited greetings to the remainder of their friends before properly greeting Duke Baird, to Kel’s amusement. Tobe took Peachblossom’s reigns as she dismounted. The boy having proven invaluable since she purchased his bond. 

Owen was reminded of his duties by Baird kindly and everyone was led off to their sleeping arrangements. He then informed them to wait in the officers’ mess hall after they finished dinner, to receive their orders. Kel and the others followed those who were to guide them while Owen handled the Duke. After dinner, Owen began collecting knights in groups of twos and threes. The first-year knights were the last collected and Kel was left until the very end.

When Owen came to collect Kel, she was already anxious. As she was left alone with Wyldon, she felt her nerves spike. Wyldon gestured to the chair, “Have a seat, Lady knight. Wine or cider?” He offered with his tone normal enough. 

He was at least being respectful, “Cider, please, my lord.” Kel didn’t like liquor or spirits, though she knew Joren did enjoy them in small amounts.

Wyldon offered a toast and she responded in kind and they both drank a sip. Once Wyldon leaned back, he gave her a serious look, “I won’t dance about it. I’m giving you the hardest assignment of any knight in this district. I think you will hate it, and perhaps me.”

Kel straightened, “My lord?” She questioned.

“General Vanget has asked me to build and staff a refugee camp in addition to the new fort. As soon as it’s ready, we’ll take about three hundred refugees, all ages, from Tirrsmont, Anak’s Eyrie, Riversedge, Goatstrack village, and outlying districts. About two hundred more will arrive once fighting begins. Maybe seven hundred in all by summer’s end,” He tapped a map of the countryside before him. “The only ground I can get for it is an open piece of elk-dung valley between Fiefs Tirrsmont and Anak’s Eyrie, on the Greenwoods River. There’s the river for water, and flat ground for planting if no one expects to grow more than enough to survive. There’s fortified high ground now, and troops to defend it. My new fort, Mastiff, will be here, on the other side of these hills. We’ll patrol as much as we can, to keep Scanrans from getting very far, but there’s just too much empty ground and too much forest to plug all our gaps.”

Kel nodded her understanding, though still uncertain why he was telling her this. Wyldon continued, “I tried to get land further south. The nobles there say they pity the refugees and send old clothes, tools, perhaps some grain, but they don’t want all those extra mouths on their lands, hunting their game. Perhaps your husband may be able to work on them, but for now, it’s the best we can do.”

It sunk in that Kel was going to be a knight assigned to this posting, and she hated that she would be in such a protected position. She wanted to be fighting, not safe. She resisted showing any emotions before asking her question, “Who’s to command this place, sir?” Kel wanted to know who her commander would be.

Wyldon raised an eyebrow, “You are.” The response shocked Kel.

“Forgive me, my lord… but… I could have sworn that you said I will be in command,” Kel stated when her mouth worked again.

“I did,” Wyldon was blunt. “It’s work, Stone Mountain. Half of the men I can spare to build and guard the camp are convicts. They agreed to fight if we took them from the quarries and mines. They must be watched and further trained. All have mage marks to expose them as convicts if they run, so you shouldn’t worry about desertions, unless they’re fool enough to go to Scanra. The other half of the men I could find… well I did my best.”

Kel was numb now, “I expected to serve under an experienced warrior. In combat.”

“You are more useful with the refugees. You will have advisors. Duke Baird will reside with you temporarily, to help in matters both medical and social,” Wyldon’s expression said he was resolute in the matter. 

“Sir, I’m only eighteen. I don’t know anything about refugee camps! Everyone says it, first-year knights are so green, we’re better off plowed and planted with something useful!” Kel tried anyways.

“You are not a typical first-year,” Wyldon was firm in this. “The Knight Commander of the King’s Own trained you in matters of supply, the building and defense of a fort, and how to command. You helped him recruit new personnel for the Own, and he says your work in supply and logistics is superior.”

“He also trained me for battle,” Kel blurted before thinking.

Wyldon took a moment to respond, “If this were last summer’s war, I wouldn’t expect much danger. Raids don’t get far without help. But this isn’t last summer’s war. King Maggur wants to keep the ground he takes. There is no safe zone within a hundred miles of the border. You’ll see combat. I guarantee that.”

Kel looked him firmly in the eye, “Sir, you’ll have forts and patrols close to the Vassa, between me and the enemy. I still feel like you’re trying to keep me safe. That’s not why I became a knight.”

Wyldon stood and ordered her to follow him. He led her out of headquarters and to a large building near the rear wall. It was filled with noise: conversation, babies’ and children’s crying, the clatter of wood. Rows of three-tiered bunk beds lined the walls. There were lofts overhead on either side, with railings to keep anyone from falling to the ground floor. Laundry and food were everywhere. The very air was filled with the scent of people who didn’t get to bath often, burnt food, and urine. 

Cats and dogs hid in the shadows, lay on the beds, or played with anyone who would give attention. At the far end, a large hearth provided heat and a cooking fire. The building fell silent upon their entry like a slow wave, first those closest, then those further away. Slowly, they all turned to look at Wyldon and Kel in the low light.

“If you’ve come to share supper, my lord, we’ve none to spare,” A woman by the fire stated bluntly. “We ate it all and could have eaten more.”

She walked forward. There had been more of her once, from the way her stained, red wool dress hung on her stocky body. Her eyes were brown and heavy-lidded, lined with pain. She stopped before Wyldon and Kel, “Giving this pup a look at the unfortunate?” She asked, her husky voice scornful. “Something for the lad to write home about?”

The woman didn’t realize that Kel was female, Kel realized quickly. Of course, she would be writing home to Joren. If she was going to be anchored down with these people, she was going to do her best to protect them. She would find out what Wyldon would give her and then Joren would hopefully supplement whatever was given.

“Good evening, Mistress Fanche,” Wyldon was all curtsey. “This is one of the knights who has come to defend the border, Lady Knight Keladry of Stone Mountain. Lady Keladry, Fanche Weir.”

His voice was loud enough that everyone nearby heard. For a moment, it was absolutely silent. Then everyone was whispering, the words lady knight repeating over and over. Kel bowed to Fanche, and noted a black braided ring, the woman was a widow, “Fanche’s husband, Gother, was the Goatstrack miller.” Wyldon explained. 

“’Was’ bakes no bread,” Fanche stated. “I’m single enough now, and I’ve work to do.”

With this, she turned back to the hearth and the large pot over it. Wyldon turned to Kel to explain, “The Scanrans hit Goatstrack last October, burned the mill, killed the miller and their daughters. Thirty-seven dead in the entire village. Fanche mustered those who remained and got them here, fighting Scanrans the whole distance. She saved fifty-eight lives.”

“She’s a handful, that one,” Commented a man who now stood next to Wyldon. He was a ragged in appearance but continued as he dug his hands into his pockets. “Gods, I love a tough woman.”

“You have your work cut out with her,” Wyldon stated with a chuckle.

“Oh, well, I like work,” the man replied. Kel realized that Wyldon had relaxed, that he enjoyed doing the fighting and protecting. Training pages was his duty, but protecting others was his passion, like it was Kel’s.

“Lady Keladry of Stone Mountain, Saefas Plowman,” Wyldon introduced. “He’s a trapper.”

The man bowed, “Not from Goatstrack, so I’ve had little time to wear her down. The way Squire Owen tells it, milady, you’re ten feet tall and eat ogres.”

Kel smiled. She could see why Owen would like this man, “I shrank in my last bath. I’m very disheartened by it and have no idea how I will explain it to my husband.” She joked back.

Others came over to be introduced as word spread that the realm’s second female knight was present. They spoke to Wyldon, asking for news while eying Kel. All bore the signs of hard times: Clothes that were too loose, ragged, and stained. Skin that had once covered more flesh. Their eyes were haunted by family and friends who were dead, crippled, enslaved, or missing.

Finally, Wyldon released Kel from the torment of being so close to these people without being able to do more for them immediately and led her back to headquarters. Inside his office, he poked up the fire, “I hear you have a new servant.”

“Yessir, Tobe is a Horse mage. I found him being mistreated at a wayhouse in Queensgrace,” Kel responded, watching Wyldon by the fire. “You took me there because you wanted to make me feel badly for them, enough that I would take the command. But all you have to do is order me.”

“Sometimes its better to have understanding than obedience,” Wyldon informed her, returning to his desk. “I know this is not what you wanted. No matter what I say, you and others will think this is a dung-heap assignment. I haven’t a doubt that when you inform your husband of it, he will make a fuss of some sort. The truth is you are the only one I can trust to do this job properly.”

Wyldon and Kel were both seated by this point and his expression was grim, “You care enough about commoners to do the task well. I did consider Queenscove, but he is much too fair. He shares his sarcasm and his inability to abide fools with all, regardless of rank. If they didn’t kill him within two weeks, I’d have to see if he was drugging their water. Anyone else will order them about, create more resentment, and turn the place into shambles, or pursue his own amusements and leave them to get into trouble.”

Kel couldn’t even argue with him. She knew how most nobles thought. Joren and her close friends were the only ones who didn’t ridicule her for her care for the lower classes, and even some of her friends thought her too caring. Most nobles held no respect for the common folk and would do little more for them than was absolutely necessary. Kel’s care for those who held less power was a rarity, and she knew it. She was just fortunate enough that her husband understood and respected her position on it, and even agreed to a lesser extent. She also knew Wyldon was right about Neal.

“Well? Will you do this, Keladry of Stone Mountain?” Wyldon asked.

Kel hated that she was being anchored down. She couldn’t go after Blayce, but she knew that the only option at the moment was to accept. There were too many who needed her, “I’ll do it, my lord.”


	18. Spring 460 Continued

Her first task was supplies. Wyldon warned her not to be too greedy, but Kel didn’t care about that. She would take what Wyldon could provide and then write to Joren and Verene to get extra supplies. It may take weeks for the additional supplies to arrive, but they would do those people a world of good and make them stronger, which was better from a defensive perspective. After she went through the supplying process, reassuring Owen she didn’t blame him for the shock of her command, she also thought to write to Lalasa. She could ask the woman to use the investment returns from the shop, Joren had insisted the Kel look at it from that angle, to buy quality cloth and thread to be shipped north with the supplies from Verene. It would allow the refugees materials to make new clothes which in turn would build moral and help keep them healthy. 

She also requested in the letter that Joren and Verene see if they could locate some mages, healer and battle mages both. All Wyldon could spare was Neal for a healer and temporarily Duke Baird while they finished setting up the refugee camp. She knew it wasn’t enough, they were too exposed to Blayce and the Scanrans. Waldon was right about that, they would be seeing fighting, because the Scanrans were going to target refugee camps for their children.

With the camp already mostly build, and the men doing the building already in residence, Kel didn’t linger at Fort Giantkiller. She needed to get a good understanding of her command and its surroundings before the refugees started flowing in. Two days after her arrival at Giantkiller, she, along with Duke Baird, Lord Wyldon, Neal, Merric, and Owen set out for the refugee camp along with all the supplies she was able to scrap up. Kel was a little unnerved to find that she was going to be in charge of Neal and Merric, though, she could hardly be expected to be a commander of more seasoned knights and still receive the respect her position warranted. 

Tobe started the group to a commonly known song as they left Giantkiller, to Kel’s amusement. Kel and Wyldon even joined in as they moved out. The trip to the refugee camp wasn’t the easiest, with the roads in poor condition this early in the season. Fortunately, once they reached the area of the road that wound through the hills between her new base and Giantkiller, the road was frozen solid and thus, easier going. On the far side of the hills, it was muddy once more, but they were near enough to the new camp that it was fully visible, if only through a spyglass at this point. A horn call sounded faintly in the distance, telling her they had been spotted. 

Wyldon’s trumpeter replied with his own call to indicate they were friendly. As they moved on, Kel watched her new home. As they approached, the standard Tortallan flag was joined by a second. It took a moment for Kel to recognize that it was her own insignia, the gray owl over the deeper gray mountain on a field of blue and the glaives in its talons. It was the flag of the fort commander. 

Kel wondered who knew that she was coming, knew her new insignia, and made the effort to create a flag for her. It wasn’t as if Joren could have done it, though if he had known, she wouldn’t have put it past him, but he had no way of knowing that she would be given her own command so soon. She pushed aside her wonder as she collapsed her spyglass and they began crossing the Greenwoods river. The bridge, Kel noted, had mage blasts attached to the underside of the bracing planks. Even a non-mage could make the blasts explode with a snap of the key to the spell, which was a thin, flat piece of wood. The blasts would then destroy the bridge, dropping anyone on it into the river. The river was deep and fast with the spring melt and would serve as a decent moat. No one would be able to cross the Greenwoods within miles of the camp so long as the spring floods continued. In summer it could be forded, but miles away, hopefully giving the army time to provide aid. 

Once they approached the camp, the sounds of saws and hammers could be heard and when they entered the camp, Kel could see that it was over halfway built, some barracks completed, while others were still under construction. The army barracks, two refugee barracks, a guards’ shack, mess hall and cookhouse, the latrine, and the headquarters building were all completed. Only three more refugee barracks and the infirmary still needed to be completed.

As Kel finished her brief scan of the camp, a man in army maroon trotted down as set of wooden stairs leading down from the walkway lining the upper wall. He approached swiftly before halting before Lord Wyldon. He wore the insignia of a captain and saluted Wyldon at attention, “My Lord.”

Wyldon returned the salute, “Captain Hord Elbridge, I present his grace, Duke Baird of Queenscove, Chief of the royal healers. Here is Lady Knight Keladry of Stone Mountain, who will relieve you here as commander, Sir Nealan of Queenscove, who will be camp healer, and Sir Merric of Hollyrose, in charge of camp security.” The captain bowed to each of them in turn as they were introduced.

He then waved over a man with the markings of a sergeant on his uniform, “Your Grace, my lord Wyldon, sir knights, Sergeant Landwin here will take charge of your things and show you to where you’re to sleep.”

Kel watched as the others were led to the headquarters, leaving her to deal with the captain alone, “Lady Knight, what would you have us do here? Will you address the men? Tour what we have? Review the country? I have keys to give you, of course, and I must familiarize you with the state of affairs here. The camp is unnamed. We thought to leave that to you.” Kel disliked the slightly condescending tone coming from the Captain but ignored it.

She had no doubt of what was going through his mind, just like it would go through the minds of all of Corus’s nobility as soon as word of her command got out. He, no doubt like the rest, would think that Kel was given a command in deference to her husband’s old family and their influences, but a soft one as to no tax the female knight. Kel shoved the thought of insecurity aside. What they thought, didn’t matter. What Lord Wyldon thought was what mattered, and he would never have assigned Keladry command of so much as her own horse if he didn’t think she could handle it, much less an entire refugee camp. 

Instead of responding immediately, Kel dismounted Hoshi to conceal the fact that she was uninformed of how to take command and this man was throwing everything at her at once, “How long are you with us, Captain Elbridge?” She asked rather than giving a direct response.

“It’s my hope to ride on to the new fort in the morning, milady,” His face was unreadable, but his tone was still just holding that slight note of arrogance. “But of course, I’ll stay as long as you need of me.”

Kel silently resolved to allow him his wish, if only to be rid of the arrogant man. She looked around at the soldiers handling the horses and wagons. Tobe kept Peachblossom, the horse still had only a handful of people who he allowed close, along with the pack horse the Crown had assigned to Kel. She sighed, having procrastinated long enough in giving him a response to his earlier questions, “Is there any time during the day when the men are all assembled? Suppertime, perhaps?”

“Aye, milady. Lunch most of them take where they work,” The captain responded immediately.

Kel passed Hoshi’s reigns to Tobe, “You may as well tend the horses, Tobe, and bring my things to my quarters.” If the captain expected an entitled noblewoman, she could play the part, though she hated it. 

Tobe took Hoshi’s reigns while bowing in his saddle, Joren had spent the short time with him instructing the boy on proper court manners and Kel had done what she could to expand on that education. He had told Kel it was important for the others to at least see some normal noble behavior from her or they would become uncomfortable with her lax behavior. It showed now, “Very good, my lady.” Tobe responded promptly before leading Hoshi away.

“Why don’t we tour the camp and you tell me how things are,” Kel suggested coolly, turning back to Elbridge. “Let the men work unhindered. There’s time enough to talk at supper.”

Elbridge looked slightly startled by Kel’s attention switching back to him as he fumbled at his belt a moment before a bundle of sticks came free in his hand. Bowing, he offered them to Kel, “Lady knight, I surrender this camp to you. Here are the keys to the mage blasts.”

Kel blinked a moment and resisted the urge to sigh, people got so silly over rank sometimes. She then accepted the keys. They were each strung on a leather thong, secured to a ring, and labeled with the location of the mage blasts. With these in her possession, she alone could set off the blasts that would explode and drop the bridge into the river.

“And here are the keys to this place. Allow me to show you where they are used,” Elbridge handed over the more conventional keys on an iron ring.

“I wasn’t expecting this place to be so big, or so much work to already be done,” Kel commented as Elbridge led her around the barracks.

“They did it inside, most of it. Cobbled the floors together in sections in a barn at a homestead nearby. The house was burned, but we could use the barn. They worked all winter, planing boards, whittling pegs, cutting shingles, making nails. These Northman are the fastest woodworkers I’ve laid eyes on. They say they’re used to it, just not so much at one time,” Elbridge responded. His tone held some respect for the woodworkers, which was good.

Back outside, he led her to the flagpole, “That long key’s for the stocks. Here’s another symbol of your office.” This time Elbridge handed over a cowhide whip. Kel was grateful that between her Yamani mask and Joren’s assistance in cultivating a polite, cool smile, that she was able to conceal her distaste completely. She immediately hung the whip on her belt.

“These convict guards, they need a touch of the lash. It’s the only thing they understand,” the captain informed her. Kel’s opinion of the man was sinking rapidly by this point. Convicts, like anyone else, understood respect for someone they could trust, they just needed someone to trust. After all, the thieves heeded the Rouge, the bandits always had a leader. Kel just needed to establish herself as that authority that they would heed.

“Will they fight?” Kel asked, hoping for more insight into the convicts.

“If they don’t want to end up collared, and on the march back to Scanra, they will. They know it. I trained them and the builders on weapons this winter, same as my own men. The convicts’ weapons are locked up in headquarters unless there’s need. I don’t know about Sir Nealan as a healer but tell him he can’t let them come whining to him whenever they’ve a scratch. These prisoners take any excuse to get off work, and they love it when the healer’s a soft touch,” The Captain went on dropping lower in Kel’s opinion, though his tone had lost it’s arrogance, though Kel was wondering if it wasn’t because she hadn’t shown any squeamishness towards the whip. His words seemed to indicate that he thought Neal would be too soft-hearted.

“There’s so much room,” Kel commented, rather than resorting on scolding the man. He was clearly not compassionate, but he also did at least get the job done, just very differently than how Kel would have done things. “I didn’t understand from the map just how much space we have.”

“It’ll fill up soon, with civilians bringing their clutter and animals,” The captain replied looking uncomfortable now. “But it’s true we’ve more to work with than we thought last fall. That’s Master Salmalin’s doing. My lord was showing him this place, saying how it was the best location for a camp. Master Salmalin opens his mouth and says… something, I don’t know what. It… it made my bones ache. The ground close to the hills, it dropped about fifty feet and the ground here starts rising up like and inchworm crawls. Suddenly we’ve twice the high ground to build on as before. Mages.” 

He changed the subject, showing her the rest of the camp, which Kel allowed. She happened to like that Master Salmalin had doubled the space. Otherwise, before Joren could coerce others to get the refugees further south, they would be popping out of the walls like sardines. Once they finished with the camp, Kel insisted on inspecting the wall despite Elbridge’s token protest that it wasn’t necessary. She found, to her pleasure, that the whole thing was sound and sturdy. 

Kel also got a brief introduction to the guards that were currently on duty. Almost immediately whispers traveled along the wall. It was the same everywhere, but Kel didn’t bother listening to what was said, they would decide whether to respect her or not on their own, not by anything she said or did this instant. Instead, she just gave each a smile and firm handshake. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kel’s first letters reached Stone Mountain less than a week after Joren arrived. He smiled indulgently at them when his chamberlain brought it to him in his study. Joren was tempted to set aside his work to read the two letters immediately but pushed the urge down. Even with his previous work in sorting out the records after his father’s death, Joren found that things were still one big jumbled mess. That’s what happened, he supposed, when a couple of stubborn and equally determined people spend two decades wrestling for control over a fief. Granted, his mother had ultimately won the game, having used sly and underhanded tactics, but it was still horrific trying to figure out how to reconcile the records his father and mother had separately kept. 

This was something that had to be done before he could return south to Corus to persuade his fellows of the necessity of moving the refugees further away from the border. He managed to persevere for two more hours before giving into his craving for some contact with his wife, along with the need for a break. Joren smiled at the seal on the first letter before cracking it. He had presented his lady with her own, personalized ring for the lady of the house of Stone Mountain. He pushed his pleasure at seeing it in wax away before breaking the seal on both letters and scanned the dates to determine which had been sent first. Once he figured that out, he began reading that one. 

Kel’s letter only briefly expressed how much she was already missing him before transitioning into the meat of her letter, namely, her posting and the fact that she had been given command of the refugee camp that was being established. Joren froze for an indeterminant amount of time while he tried to process the fact that his wife, a woman who hadn’t even reached her nineteenth birthday yet, had already been given her first command. It wasn’t the fact that she was a commander, in and of itself, that was hard to process. Joren knew first-hand that Kel was a born-leader. It was in her blood, Joren had no doubt, having leeched in while exposed to her parents work as politicians. He even hoped it would carry over well into their children one day.

No, Keladry would be an exemplary commander, Joren had no doubt of that. It was the fact that Lord Wyldon had made Keladry a commander immediately and that General Vanget haMinch had allowed it to happen. Once he managed to get past his initial shock, Joren was able to read the rest of the letter, which was primarily a request for further resources, and mages. He sighed, even his wife was giving him work now. Of course, in her case, it was a reasonable request. Stone Mountain was a vastly wealthy fief. Joren set the letter he finished aside and moved onto the second one. This one made Joren laugh. 

Firstly, Kel informed him that she had named the refugee camp Haven. It was so typical of her that Joren could have guessed it himself, if he had taken a moment to think on it. The second thing she informed him of had him in gales of laughter. It turned out that one of the bandits that she had personally been involved in capturing during her second summer camp as a page was among the convict soldiers. Joren would have been concerned about the man being a potential problem, except he had apparently announced to an entire mess hall of soldiers that she had ‘gutted ol’ Breakbone Dell’ calmly while in the face of being ridden down by the bandit. 

That had been enough to give Kel a good, if odd, foundation for gaining the men in her command’s respect. Adding to that the fact that Dom’s squad had been temporarily assigned to Haven while they completed building and Joren had no doubt that it was a matter of a week or two more before Kel had those soldiers following her to the Peaceful Realms and back. That’s simply how his wife was. If Joren had learnt anything over the past few years, it was that Kel had a rippling effect on people. 

She didn’t give rousing, fire-leaden speeches or have the flash and flare of the Lioness. No, his wife held a steady, calm nature that reassured, a keen eye that ferreted out the best way to work things, and a cunning mind that, given time, would doubtless make the great generals of history and legend alike look dimwitted. Kel didn’t need fiery speeches, she was a giant, plowing steadily through bad traditions and conservative greed to reveal the rich soil of the results of caring and compassion and then laying the life-giving seeds that came with treating everyone with the respect they earned.

Kel was a woman who made you want to have her respect, because she oozed the natural healthy leadership that people needed to truly thrive. Joren couldn’t wait until the war was over and the people of Stone Mountain could finally experience the true force of nature that his wife was. He already got plenty of confused queries by the guards about why he had married The Girl and why he allowed her to fight. Joren smirked in a confident manner, reading the remainder of the letter. Those who questioned didn’t stop to realize exactly what kind of woman it took to be given a command and work to go through any means to gain the necessary supplies to truly fortify the camp.

Once he finished both letters, Joren wrote his mother to order up the requested supplies and begin the quest for mages. It would take some time on that front, mages willing and capable to be that close to the war front tended to already be in crown service, but Joren was willing to bet that if anyone could ferret out a few good, viable options, his mother could. At the same time, he wrote a letter of Authorization to the Gold Smith’s Guild to allow his mother permission to access whatever funds necessary to purchase the supplies. He included stipulations to his mother that they had to be capable of travelling well. His recommendation was salted and smoked meats, grains like rice, preserved foods, things that were pickled, and the things that stayed well, like root vegetables.

Once those letters were completed, Joren wrote to Lalasa, to go with the one the Kel had sent to be passed on. It also gave her a list of instructions, she was to purchase lots of inexpensive but sturdy cloth and if her own apprentices couldn’t use the work as practice for themselves, to find decent seamstresses to hire for the work of making of basic clothes for the refugees in various sizes. These people deserved at least decent clothing as he had no doubt that anything other nobles sent north would be older, and less than sturdy. With an added thought, Joren added instructions for Lalasa to also purchase material that could be sent north to be made into blankets and coats for the next winter. He would leave making coats to the refugees, as they would have plenty of time during the summer to make them. He included a letter to the Guild again giving Lalasa permission to withdraw two hundred gold crowns to pay for the work and instructions to her to apply to his mother for more if needed.

He sealed all the letters with his signet ring and then rang for a servant. Once one arrived, he held out the stack of letters, “These are to go to the Corus house. I want them sent with our best rider in the morning.”

“Yes, my Lord. Anything else?” The maid asked. “Dinner is almost ready, if you’d like your manservant to assist you with dressing.”

Joren glanced over at the window and realized that he had completely skipped lunch in favor of the letters. It was probably a good thing that neither his mother nor Kel were present to scold him for skipping a meal, even if it was unintentional, “Will my uncle be taking his meal in the hall?” Joren asked.

“No, my lord, he left instructions for a meal to be delivered to his study as he is still working,” The maid responded easily.

“Very well, no point in making the servants play pomp and circumstance for one man. Just have a tray delivered to my study as well. I also have work to complete. After that, you all are free for the evening. I can see myself to bed,” Joren stated, turning back to his desk. He still needed to write back to Kel.

The maid gapped at Joren before finally responding, “Very good, my lord. I will see that it’s done.”

“Yes, thank you,” Joren responded as he drew more blank paper towards himself and got to work on his letter to his wife.

He was oblivious to the shock that reverberated through the castle once the maid got to the kitchens. He had no way of knowing that his behavior was just as unusual to these servants as Kel’s was to most commoners. Lord Burchard had never been considerate enough to not insist on the pomp and circumstance. His father had always been convinced that servants that weren’t overworked, weren’t worth their pay. It had only been loyalty to Lady Verene and the secretly given considerations from that lady that allowed for any longstanding servants.

The fact that the new lord was even kinder was baffling. Of course, they knew the rumors that had spread throughout the kingdom of Lord Joren’s new wife, but no noble could be a knight and that compassionate. The two simply didn’t meld. Of course, she had to be unorthodox, to want to be a knight at all, but nobles simply didn’t go about rescuing animals, caring for immortals, and maintain a flock of sparrows. The only person known to do that was the Wild Mage. Still, they weren’t going to argue with the lord’s generosity. The maid returned with Lord Joren’s meal and then they all relaxed for a calm meal in the servants’ hall.

A week later, while Joren was doing a casual inspection of the local village, finding things that needed repair from exposure to the harsh mountains winter, he was approached by a group of villagers, led by the village headman and the local Mithran priest. Joren sighed, wondering what they could want. Oddly, the group of villagers looked to be four couples ranging from mid-twenties to their forties. For two of the couples, the husbands were men-at-arms that Joren recognized by their uniforms, though he hadn’t gotten to know them personally yet. 

“Milord, please forgive our interruption of your walk. We’ve been hearing some of the servants from the castle saying that your lady wife is currently in command of the refugee camp for the war, and a rumor has started that you might be looking to shelter some here. Is that correct?” The headman asked, Joren wasn’t certain why but the headman didn’t look upset and the four couples were looking hopeful, if anything. The Mithran priest looked vaguely indifferent, though still interested.

“That’s correct, though on a more permanent basis than just sheltering for the war. I was hoping to employ some of our local builders to repair some of the vacant cottages. Also, from the reports I’ve read, I understand we currently only have one elderly wainwright in the village and no real craftsmen. I was hoping that some of the empty cottages could be taken by some of the refugees. Is there a problem with that?” Joren scanned their faces and if anything, they looked more excited, not less.

“None at all, milord. In fact, I have mentioned to Lady Verene in the past that we were in need of a more diverse skillset within the village. However, some of the villagers… well they would like to know if there are going to be any orphans brought to Stone Mountain,” The headman stated. 

Joren glanced at the hopeful looking couples and it dawned on him what was going on. These were childless couples. Couples unable to have children for some reason or another, or perhaps had lost their children to sickness and were too old to safely have more, as Joren guessed was the case for the older two couples. He smiled, “I image the war will be creating a fair few orphans. I admit though, that I’m reluctant to bring them here if I don’t have the assurance of a place for them to stay, though I’m sure worst case, we could take them and train them as servants.”

“Milord, please, I lost my only boy two winters back to a spidren attack. My husband and I have no other children and while I desperately long for more, the local midwife says that my body couldn’t handle another child,” The youngest woman burst out. She couldn’t have been more than twenty-three, meaning her child had likely been young, possibly even an infant, a devastating blow for any parent.

There was similar clamoring from three other women, all saying they would gleefully kill to have a child or two to call their own. It took a few moments for the husbands and the Headman to calm the woman, but Joren smiled in amusement. Once they were quiet again, Joren finally gave them the answer they were looking for, “I imagine my Lady Wife will be happy to hear that at least some of the orphans will be finding such loving new homes. It may take me some time to arrange for the children and the other refugee families to be sent here, after all we don’t want them traveling unprotected, but I’m sure that will simply allow for you all to prepare accommodations for the children.”

The group of couples immediately burst into excited discussions while giving Joren barely respectable curtsies and bows before departing, leaving Joren with just the headman and Mithran priest. 

The headman looked at Joren with relief and approval, “Thank you, for your kindness Milord. Sir Lionel had said that you was cut from a different cloth than your father, but it is gratifying to see it firsthand. Now, there are currently five cottages vacant and in need of repair. I imagine those four couples might be willing volunteers to help set those to rights, but in truth what we really need are two really skilled wood workers, as we have far more work than a single elderly wainwright can handle, and three farming families. Three of the cottages are located on good farming land that is going to waste because the previous residents vacated when your late father’s taxes became too burdensome on them.”

Joren nodded in understanding, “I will be sure to tell Lady Keladry the needs and I’m sure she will find suitable families.” With this the headman made a deep, respectful bow to Joren and departed.

All that was left was the Mithran priest, “I brought this matter up with the late Lord Burchard some four years ago, but the matter was neglected and ignored and now the situation grows worse. The prior Goddess priestess for the village died four years ago and none has been gotten to replace her. Furthermore, I am aging, well past my prime and it is beyond time that I have an assistant at the very least. For the past four years, I have done my best to preform the care and maintenance to both the Mithran temple as well as its rites, but also, I have tried to keep the small Goddess temple the previous lords have only ever barely allowed from falling to shambles. 

“You can see the damage it has already done to the village to have an improperly maintained Goddess temple, and a shabbily small one at that, in the village. Four families unable to have children, those who have been blessed with children are a pitiful few. It is a disgrace to Stone Mountain that needs to be rectified immediately. When the previous Goddess Priestess died, Lord Burchard laughed, laughed I tell you, at the idea of needing a replacement. If this goes on much longer, the gods will turn their backs on Stone Mountain and we will doubtless all feel the dire consequences,” The Priest finished off his tirade. Joren realized he didn’t even know his name, to his shame.

“Forgive me, Master…” He prompted.

“Master Ellis Brighteye, My Lord,” Master Ellis supplied with an indignant huff.

“I apologize, Master Ellis. I had no notion that the Goddess temple has been so neglected these past four years or I would have seen to it immediately. If you would be kind enough to write to the training temples in the City of the Gods, I will happily supply the necessary fees for replacing the Goddess Priestess and see to an assisting Priest is sent to aid you. In the meantime, perhaps there are some devout women and men, perhaps teens that could be spared, in the village that I can arrange to be paid to assist you in the care of both temples until when the new Priest and Priestess arrive, so that things will be in good order when they arrive?” Joren could tell he had said exactly the right things as the elderly Priest seemed to gain a satisfied expression.

“Yes, that would be quite wise, my lord. I rather suspect with a Lord who respects the gods as you do, things might turn back for the better. I shall write the letters to the training temples immediately. I fear the City of the Gods will soon be embroiled in the conflict on our northern border and I don’t want any further delays in proper order being restored,” Master Ellis stated firmly before bowing the exact amount that was proper before departing. 

Joren sighed and glanced around the village, he would have to put off the unofficial inspection until the next day. Master Ellis was right, a lack of proper representation to the Goddess was very likely the source of so few births in the village. Another point of damage his father had idiotically dealt to Stone Mountain. No doubt it wasn’t just the taxes that had driven those families off. Joren had meant what he said too, if he had known the previous year, he would have dealt with it immediately after his father’s death.

He walked briskly back to the castle, pulled out the special lock box intended for transporting gold, put fifteen gold crowns into a coin purse, fifty in another and stuck them both in the box and locked it. He then sat down to write a letter to both training temples. The one to the temple for the Goddess included a formal apology for the lack of proper maintenance and respect towards the Goddess temple and assurances that he wouldn’t allow it to happen again. The fifty crowns were to pay the fee for assigning a properly trained priestess to the temple and the rest a donation to the temple as a symbol of his apology. The fifteen crowns to the Mithran training temple was the standard five gold crowns as a fee for assigning a new priest to the local Mithran temple and ten crowns in donation to ensure that Mithros didn’t take offense at Joren donating to just the Goddess temple.

He then summoned his uncle who looked appalled at the realization that such an idiotic occurrence had happened, and he had been unaware. It was something that he agreed needed immediate rectification, assured Joren that his work was already sorted, and he would be happy to go with the letters and money to the City of the Gods. He then cursed his dead brother for his level of idiocy when there had been a recent and much more dramatic example of what happened when one was neglectful to the gods in Carthak. Emperor Ozorne had brought about famine, unrest, and his eventual downfall for disrespect on a far greater scale. Still, even as prosperous a fief as Stone Mountain was playing with fire by neglecting proper respect to the Goddess.

With that sorted, he sent a servant to collect the letters from Master Ellis and then ordered that a squad of men-at-arms leave with the letters and box along with Joren’s uncle to the City of the Gods. He wanted them moving quickly, to get everything sorted before fighting picked up on the border. With luck they would reach the City of the Gods and be back within a week and a half. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Joren’s response to Kel had come as quickly as she could expect given the distance for letters to travel, three weeks into her position as Haven’s commander. By this point all the bunkhouses and storage sheds were completed and they were expecting more refugees to be arriving any day now and it was that same day the first batch arrived. As it was, Kel didn’t know about the letter until she had gotten to her quarters after a long day of dealing with the refugees from Goatstrack, Numair Salmalin, who escorted them and the animals that they had brought with them.

Their arrival had come just after Kel had finished calming Neal to prevent an unnecessary explosion. After Neal was nearly blinded by Master Salmalin’s magic, Kel sent word to Merric so that he would know the refugees were arriving. Kel went to help unload the wagons and cart. While she worked, she spotted one of the cooks nearby, “What is it, Einur?” She asked kindly enough. He was a decent man, from what she knew of him and not one to interrupt for no reason.

The man cleared his throat, “Milady, if… if I might be havin’ a word?” He requested after hesitating for a moment.

“So, are the men all after you, then, milady? Couldn’t find a husband in the south, so you came here to pick and choose,” Fanche was nearby and had heard Einur’s request. Kel groaned while Dom and his men immediately burst into laughter. She knew it was pure amusement at Fanche’s expense as they all knew what Joren looked like, never mind how he treated her.

Einur immediately snapped at Fanche with a glare, “You ain’t been here these last weeks, so you keep silent till you know who you’re talkin’ of. She’s been workin’ curst hard…”

“Enough,” Kel interrupted, though she was happy to know that he approved of her. “None of that. Let’s not start any brawls.”

Kel led the protesting man away by the arm, “But milady, she’s wrong. She’s not seen you laboring like one of us. Never mind that Sergeant Dom says you’ve got a wealthy and handsome and carin’ husband in Lord Joren of Stone Mountain.”

“She’ll get her chance. What did you need to say?” Kel firmly redirected the conversation to the point at hand.

“Oh… um… Lady, it might… it might be easier… if… if you great folk took supper at headquarters, like the captain done. At least until… well, just for a time,” Einur looked distinctly uncomfortable.

Kel propped her hands on her hips, “Spit it out, Einur. There’s work to do. Why change our meals?”

The man scratched his head before practically whispering, “Till that mage is gone.” The emphasis on mage held a sour note.

“Which mage? We’ve got sev… You mean Master Numair,” It dawned on Kel as he was the only new one.

Einur nodded, clearly uncomfortable. Kel protested, “But he’s a fine man. He taught Sir Nealan and Sir Merric and me. He’s a little scatterbrained, to be sure, but he is a black robe…”

She cut off when Einur gave her a pathetic look, “Milady, you wasn’t here that time he croaked and land just moved around, like giant snakes was under it. He makes us nervous, and nervous cooks burn soup.”

“All the cooks feel this way?” She asked, noticing the ‘us’ in his statement.

Einur nodded. Kel sighed, “We’ll need someone to serve, if we’re to be formal.” She pointed out.

“Your boy says he’ll help,” he responded almost too quickly.

“Very well. Notify everyone who’s to dine at headquarters. I have to talk to the new people in the morning, you know. I wanted to do it like I talked to you men, only over breakfast.”

“We can send for you, when folks are finishing in the morning.”

Kel smiled crookedly, a habit she picked up from Joren, “An answer for everything, it seems. Go on, then. Back to work.”

“Bless you, lady,” the cook said with a deep bow. “Thank you.”

Kel returned to unloading the wagon before going to locate Fanche. The woman was helping build a fire pit when Kel found her, “Mistress Fanche, I would like a word in private, if you please.”

“I’m busy,” Fanche responded dismissively.

“If you please, Mistress Fanche,” Kel’s tone made it clear that it wasn’t really a request.

The woman made a show of dusting off her hands before following Kel down the long strip of earth between the refugee barracks. Once they reached the other end, near the wall, Kel turned to address the woman. She gave Fanche no time to speak before going into what needed to be said, “It doesn’t matter what you think of me. If you have a criticism or an insult you’d like to deliver, then take me aside and tell me, I don’t care. Though I must say, I do get bored with folk claiming I became a knight either because I’m a slut or I’m desperate for a husband. That last one will disperse quickly enough though, given that I married Lord Joren of Stone Mountain this past winter. You’d think people would try to be a little more original. I am surprised to hear such talk from you.”

Fanche grimaced, “Why? Because I’m another woman, and everyone knows women are sweet and helpful with each other? Because we’re all sisters under the Goddess?”

“No. Because I expect you to know what it’s like, to be a woman and command. Lord Wyldon said you rallied your people when Goatstrack fell. You took charge and fought till you got them to Giantkiller. I know you must have had men who argued and balked and nearly got you all killed. I’d hoped you’d see you and I are in the same boat and keep your disagreements between the two of us,” Kel was nearly scolding the older woman.

“You break my heart, little girl,” Fanche responded sarcastically. “So, they told you to command here. You know what you command? A killing ground. Those northern leeches will batten on us whenever they like. Gods forbid our might nobles would pay to feed and guard us inside those stone walls that our families built. They can always replace commoners. So, they give us walls of twigs, protector knights so green I can smell the sap, and a handful of guards recovering from wounds or half dead from the mines.”

“You think I don’t know that? While I’m standing here, my lord husband is currently arranging to take as many refugee families and orphans as Stone Mountain can reasonability take in, and then he is going back to Corus to convince other better-minded nobles to do the same. We are not all cold-hearted villains, Mistress Fanche. My mother-in-law will doubtless be sending additional supplies our way. I see it all just as plain as you. What I’d like you to see is that if we aren’t all united inside these walls, noble and common, soldiers and cooks, male and female, then the enemy will take us all. So, think about that, will you? And insult me in private. You made a fair fool of yourself by implying I would set aside Joren of Stone Mountain for a common cook. As well as Einur does cook, nothing would sway me from my husband,” Kel finished before giving Fanche a final nod. “Welcome to Haven, Mistress Fanche.”

With that Kel retreated to headquarters, letting Dom’s squad tell the new comers what they found so hilarious about Fanche’s off color comment. Just outside her small office, Numair lounged on a bench. Kel sighed, “Master Numair, I’m sorry, you should have sent someone to find me. It was me you wanted, wasn’t it?”

Numair smiled pleasantly, “Yes, I am here to see you. I have dispatches for you from Raoul, Wyldon, and Vanget. I also brought you clerks.” He pointed to the open door opposite Kel’s office.

Kell peered at them, wondering why she would be sent clerks before understanding. Clerks made lists, wrote letters, kept accounts, drew up work rosters, all the things she was currently doing. She smiled in relief, “Gods be thanked. The way soldiers carry on when you ask them to write things down, you’d think it was worse than fighting. I’ve been doing a lot of it myself rather than argue with them. Excuse me.” 

Kel went over and greeted them, introducing herself and giving them basic instructions on who to go to for things, and where they could sleep. Once they were settled with Tobe handling them, Kel returned to Numair, letting him into her office, “Tobe will see them right. Please, sit down. You say you have dispatches?”

Numair immediately handed over several folded and sealed documents. Kel murmured an apology before breaking the seals and beginning to read them while Numair waited. The bad news was that Raoul wanted Dom and his squad at Fort Steadfast before the serious fighting began. Frasrlund, the port city at the mouth of the Vassa River was already besieged. Vanget wrote that was everywhere along the border. In addition to Frasrlund, Seabeth and Seajen, her uncle’s fief, had fought off ship raids. Raoul’s fort had turned back a probing attack of two hundred warriors.

Along the northeastern border, small parties of Scanrans had all struck on the same day, resulting in major tangles as the army tried to defend all the threatened villages and forts. The City of Gods reported killing devices seen in their hills. Kel imagined armies on the move and hated the walls she was bound to, keeping her from the real fight. 

Lord Wyldon wrote that Numair carried a verbal report to be heard by Kel, Neal, Merric, and Duke Baird. He also wrote that while enemy patrols had been seen near Fort Mastiff, none had been caught. Finally, Kel was ordered to report in person about the progress in Haven. He expected her and an escort at Fort Mastiff in seven days, when he would have more supplies for her. In the meantime, she was to expect the refugees from Tirrsmont and Anak’s Eyrie as they were already on the road and would soon reach Haven.

Kel deferred the spoken messages until after dinner. She was unnerved when Numair caught her with his eyes and seemed able to hold her with his eyes. She did learn something from it though as she learned that mages could use a focus for force a person to pay attention and obey them. After that, Kel let him spell the walls and gates as she gave him a tour around the camp. During the tour there was an attack by a raiding party of thirty. At first it seemed that simple until killing devices came up the eastern wall.

She took out the first that hadn’t made it completely over the wall with a crossbow and Numair pinned the second with a pile of logs allowing Kel to take out the second with another shot. By the time she had dealt with the two killing devices, the battle to the north was finished. It made the point to Kel clear though, the war had truly begun and Wyldon was right, she would see plenty of fighting here. Kel decided to set up a training roster and talk to everyone about what was going to happen next, between Dom’s squad leaving and the like. 

After dinner that night, Numair gave the verbal reports, he created an image of a foot-tall killing device, “In addition to the two killed here today, nineteen of these things have been reported in the country between the City of the Gods and Seabeth. Nineteen that we’re sure of. Villagers near Sigis Hold caught one in the kind of pit they use to trap bears, then shoveled it full of oil, hay, and coal and burned it until it half melted. None of the others have been take, well, ‘alive’ is the best term. But we finally know more about who is creating them.

“The City of the Gods expelled a mage student, Blayce Younger of Galla, six years ago. The charges were necromancy, particularly the enslavement of the spirits of the dead. It seems he has an aptitude for it,” Numair explained.

“So, he uses he aptitude to kill children. He murders them and uses their spirits to fuel the killing devices,” Kel whispered numbly. The others besides Numair drew the sign against evil on their chests.

“You sound sure,” Numair examined Kel closely.

“I was there when three of the things were killed,” She reminded him. “The white vapors that come out of their heads? They have the voices of children.”

“He could us any spirit,” Baird pointed out, his expression one of disgust. “I wager he uses those of captive foreigners so Maggur will ignore, and make his own people ignore, what this Blayce does. It disgusts me, what people allow, if they think those who commit vile acts can help them to achieve some goal.”

Numair made the image of the killing device disappear before continuing, “All this means that refugee camps are just storehouses of fuel for Blayce. We’ve sent a request south for wagons to take evert refugee out of reach of the border. I think I’ve explained things in frank enough terms that even the Council of Lords and the Council of Commons will see there’s no choice. They’ll vote us the funds and find the land to house them. His majesty says he won’t let the councils adjourn for the summer until they do. Until then, we’ll have to manage as best we can.”

“I know Joren is already working on making space for as many refugees at Stone Mountain can take, but I’m not certain how much room we have because I haven’t been there yet,” Kel admitted.

“But we know who’s responsible, and these devices could change the course of this war. Surely we ought to be sending teams of assassins to settle this Blayce,” Merric pointed out.

“Do we know where he is?” Dom countered. “There’s an awful lot of Scanra out there, and most of it’s straight up and down.”

Numair answered with a shake of his head, “All we know is that he’s not in the capitol at Hamrkeng. Our spies searched the place from cellar to attic. He’s not with King Maggur.”

“And anyone who might know is too scared to talk,” Neal finished for him.

“That’s the size of it. We’ll continue to search, and to bolster the defenses of the camps. At least Haven can look to someone who’s killed three devices,” Numair nodded to Kel.

“With lots of help,” She reminded him, refusing to take all the credit. She wished once more that she knew where Blayce was so that she could hunt him down and deal with him. She then came up with another idea to up the fortification of Haven which Numair offered to help with by moving boulders.


	19. Spring - Summer 560

By the time that Joren was finished making the arrangements for the refugees he could fit in Stone Mountain to come to his fief, his uncle returned, and had the new Priests and Priestesses in place, it was nearing summer. Kel and Joren had exchanged a few letters back and forth by then. He had been concerned by the number of killing devices that had been sent to Haven in particular, but he at least had reassurance in knowing that Kel was a tactical genius and knew how to handle them. He was amused by the fact that some of the children, the orphaned ones in particular, had decided they were going to be trained on how to fight with spears as Kel did with her Glaive. 

He was half tempted to purchase the lot of them proper practice glaives. He even spoke to the families looking to take on orphans about the training and all of them seemed to view it with a mixture of amusement and approval. After all, they pointed out that while the Scanran aren’t as much a threat to Stone Mountain, they still had plenty of need to know how to defend themselves in Stone Mountain between the bears, bandits, and immortals. In addition to this, Men-At-Arms made good pay as well. That resolved him on the matter. 

He had also received a letter from his mother informing him that she had sent three wagons full of cloth and clothing for people of various ages, and five wagons of good, hearty food supplies to ensure the refugees would have more to eat. Two of the wagons were packed with rice, the others with root vegetables, dried beans, and dried peas. All things that along with hunted meat could make for hearty stews to fill up their diet. It was necessary, given what Kel described of the Tirrsmont lot, having them labeled as half-starved when they arrived.

In addition to this, the Wild Mage had bolstered Kel’s defenses by enhancing the intelligence of the animals of Haven. Kel’s flock of sparrows was expanded as well, and the dogs and cats all learned the hand signals they used as well has having their own signals for enemy, friend, and the numbers. It made them excellent sentries, as far as Kel had told him. Joren smirked at the idea of his fief’s reaction when she finally came to Stone Mountain. He knew that most of them didn’t believe that Kel had a flock of sparrows at her beck and call, but it had gotten bigger. He made a mental note to arrange for a bird house of sorts to be set up for the flock when Kel arrived at Stone Mountain.

He was less impressed by Kel’s descriptions of some of the refugees. Some had come to respect her quickly, but there was one that would not let up. Idrius Valestone seemed to have difficulty understanding, despite repeatedly being informed, that Kel was not only in charge, but also married and thus his claims of her having a less than ideal reputation were ridiculous. He couldn’t wait until he got to Haven and collected the refugees that he could, but first he had to go back to Corus to talk other lords into making similar provisions, even if they were temporary. Granted, they hadn’t waited for their wedding to have sex, but Joren knew that he was the only man that Kel had slept with and that she’d been a virgin when they first laid together which just made the man all the more obnoxious. 

As he and the squad of man-at-arms rode south to the capital, he pondered the more amusing bit’s of Kel’s letters, like her learning how to plow a field, though based on her description on the experience, she wasn’t fond of the task. She also hadn’t done the job long. It took far less time to reach Corus now that the snow was melted and the roads clear. When they did finally reach Corus, it was to find that King Jonathan was having a very hard time persuading any nobles to give up land for refugees. Joren had smirked at his King and patted the man knowingly on the back.

“Your Majesty, I know you mean well, but you don’t know how to handle the foolish or stubborn ones. The ones that don’t think as quick as they should. I do. I had it crammed into my brain by my dolt of a father and my smarter than most mother. Let me handle them,” Joren stated almost condescendingly. 

Jonathan looked uncertain but didn’t protest when Joren explained his plan. The next day when the Council of Lords convened, he smirked and let the old fools bicker for a while before chuckling at the comment of Lord Hollyrose, the man complained he had enough trouble with keeping his own people fed when he hadn’t enough farmers to plow the fields or craftsmen to bring in revenue for taxes.

“Something you find amusing, Lord Joren?” Hollyrose snapped. “This is hardly a laughing matter. We need to figure out what to do with these refugees without taxing our own fiefs.”

“Well, that’s what’s funny,” Joren stated with a smirk. “You’re standing here complaining about lacking the funds because you don’t have enough skilled villagers and farmers on your fief while arguing that’s why you can’t take skilled villagers and farmers onto your fief. You sound ridiculous. Meanwhile, I’ve already had all my empty cottages repaired and made fit for occupation so that they can be filled up with new villagers and farmers.”

“These are refugees we’re discussing, not people who are useful,” Hollyrose snapped back.

Joren looked to Cleon, who had leaned forward. He already knew what Joren was getting at and was ready to jump on board that wagon with him, “But these aren’t just refugees. That’s not what they’ve always been. They’ve only been driven from their homes by the violence in the north. If not for that, they would still be farmers, carpenters, millers, smiths, and the like. On Lord Joren’s recommendation, I’ve been making similar accommodations on my fief. I’ve had several cottages standing empty for some time. They only needed new thatching on the roofs and are nearly fit for occupation. I recon I can take on from eight to ten families, depending on if some are willing to share housing until new places can be build.” Cleon leaned back in his chair confidently. 

Joren looked around the room and noted that Hollyrose was reconsidering his stance, as were Runnerspring and Legann. He knew all those fiefs had lost a lot of people in their villages due to the fighting in the Immortals war and had yet to replace them. It was Legann who spoke finally, “The idea does have merit. I lost over forty of my villagers and farmers during that blasted siege eight years back and I’ve yet to find near enough replacements. We could easily view this as a dry run of sorts. Those who settle in well can stay after the fighting in the north is done and those who don’t we can return north.”

A few more Lords nodded their heads in agreement. Even more looked like they were seriously considering the possibilities. Cleon had lost people to poor conditions and flooding because of his father’s wasteful behavior and a few other Lords were in similar positions. Others still had lost people to immortals before agreements had been made and problems settled. More had lost people in sicknesses that regularly swept through the south, taking out the weaker people. One lord pointed out that northerners were hardier because they had to handle the harsh winters. Another conceded that they did have some of the better woodworkers coming from the north. 

Joren knew he had won even as there was a suggestion that they adjourn for the day to allow for the nobles to consider the idea. Jonathan looked at Joren like he was possessed by the Trickster God, which in a way, maybe he was. Kyprioth had intervened on his behalf telling him how to save his own ass, so, it was possible that the God had influenced his thinking somewhat. Still, after Jonathan admitted that that was the fastest about-face he had ever seen in the Council of Nobles, he informed Joren that he would arrange for The First Company of the King’s Own to escort the refugees south with him when they determined how many could be brought south immediately.

“I presume I get to go collect them. After all, you’ll want a noble present, and I am a trained knight, for all that I haven’t been allowed to utilize my skills,” Joren was sorely missing Kel by this point and wanted nothing more than to see his wife again, even if only for a week or however long it took to arrange to bring the estimated two hundred refugees south. He knew how much space every Lord on the Council had avalible and he guessed that based on the detail that most of them would be complete families or partial families, they could get that many out at least. Given that there were roughly four hundred refugees according Kel’s last letter before he had headed south, that would halve the burden on his wife’s command and reduce risks, even if there were more refugee camps elsewhere on the border.

“You just want to visit your wife,” Jonathan snorted in amusement.

“Of course, I do. She’s my wife. Would you not miss the Queen if you two were separated in such a way?” Joren pointed out, knowing full well the King had experienced just that during the Immortals War.

“Alright, fine. You can collect the refugees and bring them south. It’s not a lot, but by all the reports I’m getting, they’re targeting children for use in those killing devices. That means families with large numbers of children take priority. Is that understood?” Jonathan looked at Joren seriously.

“Crystal clear, Your Majesty,” Joren responded with a smirk. “Now, if you will excuse me, I need to go whisper in some ears about how profitable skilled wood carvers are in Lord Marti Hill’s ear. He looked less than convinced by the idea of bringing them south.”

Jonathan rolled his eyes and waved Joren off. Joren was as good as his word too. He started Marti Hill, then moved onto Turmont who had vast swaths of uncultivated woods and lands that could be turned to good profit if only he had shepherds and skilled hunters. Following that, it was Pearlmouth who, while his city prospered, he had lots of land that could use more farmers. Each Lord he spoke to, he wheedled and cajoled about their weak points, their complaints of not having enough millers for grain, or builders to replace granaries destroyed in flooding. By the time he returned to his town house, his mother looked at him in annoyance.

“You missed dinner,” She scolded.

“I ate with Lord Runnerspring. I admit, I find the man distasteful, but he has space aplenty and the refugees need not stay once the fighting in the north is over with,” Joren defended as he slumped into a chair. “I think I may get enough Lords to make room that we could get up to three hundred refugees away from the border.”

“Hmm… It appears your father’s lessons in manipulation and politics stuck after all,” Verene observed as she sat down gracefully near him. 

When she eyed his posture, Joren straightened up in the seat, “More like watching you maneuver around father allowed me how best to handle people who dislike being handled. How to suggest things to people and make them think it was their own idea, that I think rubbed off from Kel though.”

“Ah, yes, and has the King approved your request to escort the refugees south?” Verene asked neatly.

“Yes, but mostly to ensure that the ones going south are the large families with children in them. No childless couples or single people. I’d best get to bed. I’ve a long day tomorrow and need to be able to think if I’m going to have success. It will have done me no good to have coaxed them into thinking selfishly in my favor, only for them to be coaxed back to being selfish against my wishes by someone else tomorrow,” Joren smirked before heaving himself out of his chair and heading for the stairs. 

“I’ll tell those mages that we’ve found to prepare to leave for the north then, shall I? Be ready by the end of the week say?” Verene asked.

“That sounds about right,” Joren answered over his shoulder before disappearing into his room. He stripped and was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

The next morning, the Lords had ‘slept on it’ and decided in favor of bringing two hundred and fifty refugees south, under Joren’s supervision, to be disbursed among the Lords willing to take them as a ‘trial run.’ If it worked out, they would approve more being brought south. Joren didn’t argue, taking the number. It wasn’t as good as he hoped, but it was better than he had genuinely expected. Jonathan assured Joren that First Company would be prepared to ride out by the end of the week. 

Joren spent the next few days ensuring that he would have sufficient supplies for bringing the refugees south without taking from Haven’s stores. Finally, the day before the rest day, and they wouldn’t have one really, Joren headed out with a train of wagons for refugees and First Company. Plenty of the wagons held addition supplies that Joren intended on leaving at Haven for the remaining refugees. The journey north took more time than his trip south, but still less time than going north earlier that spring. In addition to this, his mother had managed to locate two mages who were willing to serve directly under Kel and Kel alone. 

Delorah Rosewood was capable of both healing and battle magic. Ragar Willowsbreath was a timid man, but was both powerful and a skilled battlemage, provided that his employer wasn’t prone to shouting or loosing their temper at him. He also admitted to having wild-magic with sparrows, which was why he was consenting to work under Kel specifically when he had refused service for the military as a whole. In his opinion, anyone who was as kind to sparrows as Kel was, was worthy of his trust. 

Joren silently suspected that the man wasn’t so much timid as he was extremely picky about who he worked for. Specifically, the man was determined to work for Joren’s wife. Joren would have been concerned that Willowsbreath was infatuated with his wife, excepting that he had already openly admitted to being balderdash. Joren had little issue with that, so long as the man had no interest in him. As the man seemed to be very respectful towards Joren, Joren figured that Willowsbreath’s admiration for Kel stood well above any interest he might have in Joren and that meant he wouldn’t behave untowardly. 

Still, the night before they left, Joren found himself annoyed to be called to speak with King Jonathan. His monarch eyed Joren after Joren took the proffered seat, “I just want to be clear here, Lord Joren. You’re going north, not only as a knight, but also as a noble who is preforming his duty to the common man. Your first and only responsibility is to the wellbeing of the refugees. You are to retrieve them and bring them to the fiefs that have opened up some space for them, including your own. You are not going to our border to fight any glorious battles, or to defeat King Maggot in one on one combat. Understood?”

“Perfectly, your majesty. Leave it to my wife to defeat King Maggot if he offers one on one combat to settle the war,” Joren joked before turning more serious. “I want those refugee children off the border even more than you do, Jon. My wife is up there defending them and the more children that are in that camp, the more temping the target Haven is to Maggur and his pet mage. I’ve read enough letters from Kel to know that they want those children bad for those cursed killing devices. Besides, Stone Mountain is very close to the border and I have no intention of swearing any kind of allegiance to Maggur.”

Jonathan chuckled a little at that, “Good. I know you are a capable knight, Lord Joren. However, you are an even better politician and if you look at the stalemate you just broke about bring refugees south, a damned clever one at that. I need that, my son needs that.”

Joren nodded in understanding, “Of course. I understand. You don’t want me getting killed or my brains scrambled in some stupid fight if it can be avoided.”

“Exactly. Now that we’re on the same page, I suggest you get to bed. You have an early start in the morning,” Jonathan gave a smirk and waved Joren off. 

Joren felt an odd mixture of respect and regret towards his king. On the one hand, Jonathan of Conte was an excellent king to have, moving the country forward in a manner that allowed for the betterment of the whole kingdom. On the other, he couldn’t help but wonder that if the king had stood his ground with Lord Wyldon, if he hadn’t allowed for Kel to be put on probation for the first year, that maybe he and his former friends wouldn’t have felt quite so comfortable bullying her. That was more a regret for Joren than anything else. Kel had long since moved on and gotten over the bullying. Joren simply hadn’t forgiven himself for his prior actions.

The next morning, Joren was on his horse at the lead of First Company and his own two squads of men-at-arms. Years of knight training had made Joren accustomed to rising early, but they were up before dawn and ready to go and that was a little too early for Joren. Still, he was up, on his horse, and resembling awake when they began the long march back north. 

The trip was a two-week march north, though this one far less chilly or annoying without the snow and slush to encumber the going. Joren was informed they were making superb time, though, by the First Company’s Captain. They did arrive a day ahead of schedule, so Joren technically couldn’t argue with that. Though, Joren suspected that was because of fair weather more than anything. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kel had been reluctant to leave Haven when it had been attacked so recently, but cooler heads had prevailed and so she was currently sitting with Wyldon and his officers at dinner as he gave her all the latest information, “Well, I’m going to get to the best bit of news first and then we can discuss the reports. We have had a mage delivered message from King Jonathan. Lord Joren broke the stalemate in the council of lords and got permission to bring away two hundred and fifty refugees. Your camp has the largest number by far, given the extra space you gained when Master Numair used that magic of his. He’s expected at Mastiff tomorrow and you’ll need to take him back to Haven and organize the larger families and orphans for going south. Jonathan stays that they will take the orphans ranging between six and fifteen that can’t be found families to care for them at the palace and train them as runners and maids and such.”

Kel perked up at this information. It was the best news she had had in a while, including the wagons of supplies they had received earlier that summer that had had a major moral boost in Haven. Fanche had simply given her an eye and stated that she figured any man crazy enough to marry Kel wasn’t likely to be a normal noble anyways.

After the information that Kel would be seeing Joren soon, Wyldon filled her in on the rest of the events that had occurred in the north, such as the fighting. Halfway into the meal, a knock sounded on the door. Owen poked his head in, “Sir, First Company’s just been sighted. It looks like they’re ahead of schedule.”

Wyldon didn’t bother holding back his laugh as Kel bolted from the table without so much as a by-your-leave. He never would have guessed the Joren and Kel would become married and seriously in love with each other at the beginning of Kel’s time as a page, but somehow, they fit well together. Kel’s sense of chivalry had brought Joren’s lack of it into line for a proper knight and lord of the realm, and Joren got Keladry to behave like an actual woman from time to time, rather than a stiff, nobly minded knight constantly.

Kel managed to make the ramparts at record speed and watched as the long columns of riders wound their way ever closer. As the gates opened to allow them in, Kel was storming down the steps of the ramparts. She could spot Joren nearly immediately, despite his platinum blond hair being hidden beneath a helm. She knew his horse and Joren directed him directly towards Kel once she was spotted. He pulled off his helm and dismounted quickly.

Kel yanked him in for a sweet kiss and they both lingered in the kiss for a while before a series of wolf whistles sounded, no doubt started by Neal. The couple broke apart and chuckled. Joren looked around and saw a few jaws hanging open. Neal and Owen came forward and greeted him as a few other that Joren didn’t recognize approached tentatively.

Kel smiled at them and waved them forward, “Sargent Connac, men, this is my husband Lord Joren of Stone Mountain. He’s come to take two hundred and fifty refugees south away from the fighting.”

“We guessed he was your husband, Lady Kel, what with how you kissed him and all. No proper noble woman kisses a man like that unless he’s her husband, and most wouldn’t be doing it in public at all,” Sargent Connac responded with a grin as he eyed Joren. “You sure got yourself a pretty husband though. Mistress Fanche will be mighty put out about it. She’s convinced that you got yourself a little bookworm of a husband that likes having a strong wife to handle of the fief’s problems for him while he can study and research.”

Joren frowned at the pretty comment. He still didn’t like the fact that a lot of people thought of him more as beautiful, than handsome. Still, he offered the man a hand, “If you knew the roughhousing Kel and I used to get up to, you’d know only the ignorant or foolish call me pretty.” Joren remarked finally.

Sargent Connac raised an eyebrow while Kel elbowed him, “Come off it, Joren. The whole of the original group that was at Haven had Dom there for weeks to corrupt the way they thought of you. Besides, you have been in the books a lot lately, from what I’ve heard.” She teased and Joren broke into a smile.

Lord Wyldon approached then as well and Joren happily clasped hands with the man he felt was more of a father to him than his own father. Oh, Sir Paxton had done well in helping guide him away from his own stupidity, but it was more the guidance of a brother. Wyldon had done his best to lay the foundation before that and that meant the world to Joren now. 

“Lord Wyldon, you seem to be enjoying life on the border,” Joren smiled, his arm still firmly wrapped around Kel’s waist. He wasn’t letting go anytime soon.

“It’s a lot less stressful than looking after a bunch of rough and tumble pages who are getting into weekly fights, that’s for sure,” Wyldon pointed out giving them both a knowing eye. “Of course, I should have suspected a crush on your part, Stone Mountain. That’s how a lot of boys mishandle their interest in a girl, by bullying them for attention. Not that Lady Keladry didn’t give as good as she got.”

Joren and Kel both blushed a little at this. Wyldon continued, “We were just having dinner and going over the war reports, if you’d care to join us.”

Joren nodded, “I am feeling a bit hungry.” Joren responded as he handed the reigns of his horse over to Owen, who was waiting to take them.

Kel took Joren to her rooms briefly so that he could wash up from the road a little and kiss her a lot. Finally, they stopped only because they knew that dinner was being held for them. The two received a few knowing or sour looks as they sat back down and ate with Wyldon and the officers. Once they finished eating, neither of the couple lingered before heading back to their room. The two then immediately fell into a frenzy of greeting each other properly after being separated for a few months. 

After a few rounds of making love, both curled up together sated and happier than they had been since their separation. They curled up and fell asleep quickly. It was Joren who woke first at the pounding on the door, he was always a bit of a light sleeper, despite his best efforts. He shook Kel awake before climbing out of bed, putting on a nightshirt and waiting for her to do the same before opening the door. 

A soldier stood outside, “My Lord, Lady knight, Lord Wyldon needs you at headquarters.”  
The two of them rushed to dress, Kel stuffed her nightshirt in her breeches, but Joren traded his for a real shirt quickly and then pulled on his breeches and boots just after Kel. He realized with a sight bit of amusement, because of the urgency, Kel wasn’t wearing a breast band, and hoped the other men could be reasonable enough not to comment on her appearance though, because it really wasn’t the time.

Neal, Sargent Connac, and several others were all right behind them. Once they reached Wyldon’s office, they halted, catching their breath from the rush. Joren almost didn’t recognize Tobe. Partly because the boy had grown, now that he was being cared for properly, and partly because he was filthy, his clothing in tatters even as he rushed Kel and clutched her with a shout of “Lady!”

Kel hugged him as he began crying. Joren and Kel both looked to Wyldon who’s expression was as grim as theirs. He stood, “I’ll take Company Eight and Company Six. Battle mages, twenty scouts. Jesslaw?”

“Sir!” Owen responded from the back of the crowd, a glance back showed the teen hadn’t even bothered with breeches, he just stood in his nightshirt and boots.

“Get me a clerk, and messengers for Northwatch, the garrison near Giantkiller, and Steadfast,” Wyldon ordered.

Joren turned, “And have the mages and men-at-arms I brought with me woken,” Joren added, earning a scowl from Wyldon, but he didn’t countermand the order. 

Kel turned back to her servant, “Tobe, how long have you been on the road?” Joren realized that Kel might have been attempting to get information and approved of it.

“Not th’ road, th’ woods. Since noon,” He was exhausted as he leaned against Kel, her nightshirt muffling the speech. “They hit mid-mornin’. The iron mantises, with the knife fingers an’ toes, they climbed over the walls on three sides. Master Zamiel sent me out the hidden tunnel. I left Loey an’ Gydo an’ Meech an’ Saefas-“

“Stop. You did right, Tobe. You’ve been on the move ever since?” Joren felt for the poor boy. Kel had mentioned all those names in letters, so even if he’d never met them before, he knew both Tobe and Kel cared for them and that’s what mattered right now. He nodded into Kel’s nightshirt.

Neal crept up behind the boy, his hand glowing green with his magic and placed it on Tobe’s back bolstering his strength, “I had t’go the long way ‘round, t’keep ‘em from catchin’ me. The sparrows led the way. I heard Sir Merric’s horn calls—they was fightin’ in the east wood. I kep’ low and kep’ movin’. I daren’t try the road, but the sparrows couldn’t go after dark, so they fetched me an owl. Th’ owl brung me here.” Tobe finished, clearly exhausted. 

“Aren’t you glad Daine has friends everywhere?” Kel asked Tobe who gave a nod before turning to Neal. “What’s the matter? He’s cold and clammy.”

“He’s chilled. His body’s in shock. He hasn’t drunk enough water, and he hasn’t eaten since breakfast, I’d guess. He needs rest,” Neal responded firmly.

It took Kel a bit of work to coax her stubborn servant into staying behind when they went to Haven. Once Kel had Tobe swayed to her thinking, she had Neal knock him out with magic. Wyldon had waited for this before ordering everyone to change and arm up. Joren and Kel quickly did just that and joined the group of massing people who were mounting up. Joren made a brief point of effort to introduce Kel to the two mages he had brought with him. Delorah Rosewood and Ragar Willowsbreath both bowed neatly to Kel from their saddles.

“Ragar, that name’s Scanran, isn’t it?” Kel asked, more curious than anything as they rode out from Mastiff. 

“Yes, my lady. To be fair though, I haven’t lived there since I was a very young lad. My parents were decent mages and used that to their advantage to immigrate to Tortall. Life is much better here, they’ve assured my siblings and myself. Personally, I can’t remember Scanra at all, but I’ve always taken their word for it. I certainly appreciate not living in a long-house when everyone is much more civilized here. Of course, my father said that having me settled the matter of moving for my parents. They felt I was far too timid to handle life in Scanra,” Ragar explained with a chuckle. Joren kept quiet on the man’s sexual orientation. He knew that Kel wouldn’t care in the slightest and that it wasn’t relevant here.

Kel nodded and gave Willowsbreath a weak smile.


	20. June 4-7, 460

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And finally we begin reaching the climax!

When they reached Haven, Wyldon sent one of the companies that they had brought with them to sweep the area around them to ensure there weren’t any Scanrans left. They were long gone though, as were the wildlife who were petrified of the killing devices and wouldn’t be back for several days. This made the woods surrounding Haven hauntingly quiet. They could smell the smoke and Stormwing activity well before they reached Haven. 

Joren could tell that Kel was forcing herself to hold back from rushing to find her people. Wyldon sent couriers to Northwatch, Mastiff, new Giantkiller, and Steadfast at the sight of the mess of churned up road at the crossroads with the Giantkiller road. He then sent Company Eight to follow Giantkiller road with orders to pursue because the wagons would slow them down. 

After that, Wyldon ordered Kel to lead them into Haven. The remainder of the ride to Haven was a bloody mess. Haven may have fallen but they made the Scanrans pay a hefty, bloody price. Joren saw his first killing device as they neared the walls of Haven, it hung half over the wall, snared in a net, though it had clearly been disabled. The gates to Haven had to have been broken open by a battering ram. Haven itself was in ruins. 

The enemy had attempted to burn the place based on the scorch marks around the bases of buildings and the smoke still weakly floating out of broken windows but there were obviously fire protections in place throughout as the walls were still intact, for the most part. The infirmary was burnt to ash though, or Joren guessed that was what it was, given that that building would be the only one that couldn’t have magic placed over it or risk having those magics interfere with the healing that occurred in that place. 

Joren followed Kel quickly as she dismounted and made for the ramparts. Wyldon gave orders to find the wounded and dead and lay them out by the gate. They found a pile of soldiers near the gate as they climbed the steps. Joren felt concerned that Kel’s expression had gone icy cold and he knew better than try comforting her in this mood. There would be time later when it was all over and done with.

Joren got a close up look at one of the killing devices and shuddered. He realized that it was probably a good thing that he wasn’t on the front lines per King Jonathan’s orders. The woman sliced in half told him enough about how deadly they were and while Kel was borderline fearless, Joren had a strong sense of self-preservation still that meant that he wasn’t likely to handle fighting that kind of thing very well. 

Joren noted that all the dead had the unmistakable mark of Stormwings and figured they didn’t care who or why the fighting occurred, just that they had fought. He also noted that Kel’s expression had gone from icy to confused. Joren felt confusion himself when a Stormwing came down and gave a half apology for mutilating the dead refugees. It was then that it clicked why Kel was really confused. Where were the refugees. Her last letter had said that there were around four hundred and change refugees in the camp. 

Kel ordered the sparrows to find Merric and his patrol. Then they searched the headquarters and found only one body. Kel’s expression turned to further confusion, “Where are the clerks? This doesn’t make any sense. Where are the children that carried their messages through the camp?”

Joren figured it out just then, “Blayce, they came for the children, to take them to Blayce Younger.”

Kel’s eyes snapped to him, comprehension dawning. Her expression turned hard once more. Joren silently resolved to figure out how to help her regardless of the situation. They left headquarters and found Neal weeping near a body of a woman and the burnt infirmary. Joren watched as Kel tried to comfort their friend briefly before going through the barracks, building by building. They found another lifeless killing device behind the latrines. That one was only defeated thanks to the sacrifice of a sparrow that had wedged itself into an eye so that someone could get near enough to crack the dome. 

The others that had come with them found the dead and laid them out in rows on one side of the ruined gate. Kel watched silently as the men worked. Wyldon came over and tried to reassure her, “You couldn’t have known that this was coming, Stone Mountain. It’s not your fault.”

“Yes, sir,” Kel whispered half-heartedly. 

Just then a bunch of sparrows flew over the walls and swirled around Kel. Wyldon demanded to know what was going on. Kel got the birds to settle and ordered the two senior-most birds, Nari and Arrow to report. Ragar popped up beside her at that point, “They found the red-haired man and his patrol. They’re injured.” He explained before the sparrows could manage the signals. 

Kel and Wyldon looked at him in confusion, “Lord Joren selected me to serve Lady Keladry in part because I have wild magic with sparrows. Just sparrows mind, but I’m also a very good battle mage. The injured are due south of here.” Their expressions cleared and refocused on what was important. 

“Captain Tollet, take five squads,” Wyldon barked out the order immediately. “Proceed with caution. I believe whatever took place here, we missed it, but there’s no point in carelessness.”

It was a matter of seconds to arrange for the sparrows to lead the men, Ragar easily conveying the instructions. Kel went back to inspecting the rows of the dead. Joren could see that Kel was mentally confirming what Joren had already suggested. The majority of those dead were in army uniforms. She got even more confused as she appeared to be trying to figure something out, but Joren wasn’t sure what as Kel wasn’t speaking her thoughts aloud. When she questioned Sargent Connac about finding the convicts and the wounded, Connac replied they hadn’t found either within Haven. All the horses were gone as well. 

Kel did another search of the camp and still found no answers to what she was looking for, even though she seemed to find places that Joren wasn’t even certain how she knew where they were. They then went through the hidden tunnel and found the cows and pigs. After that, it was announced that they had found Merric and Joren and Kel rushed back to Haven. 

More people had arrived and bore signs of heavy fighting. Kel seemed to relax slight as she saw the mage marks of the convicts, though Joren wasn’t certain why. It was clearly the patrol that they had found. Kel learnt quickly where Merric was and then entered her room. Neal was already working in concert with Delorah to heal him. 

Merry smiled at Kel weakly, “Thirty of them. They caught us at the southern part of the sweep. Not that we chased thirty, mind. The sparrows fetched us. I should have waited for their count, they’ve gotten so good at counting, but we only saw seven, so we followed. I swear the sparrows call us ten kinds of idiot when we did it. Stupid thing…”

“How were you to know more were waiting?” Kel demanded softly, crouching near the bed.

“You would have been suspicious. You’d’ve waited for the sparrows,” Merric responded petulantly. 

“Neither of us can know that,” Kel responded kindly. “I might have done the same thing. So, stop torturing yourself. What next?”

Merric grimaced, “We heard the horn calls from the fort just when they ambushed us. We tried to get past, go back to Haven, but there were too many. They drove us south, but then they broke off. I think they heard one of their own horn calls. They weren’t really interested in a fight, Kel. Just in getting us away from Haven. As it was, we lost two men. Leithan and… and Qafi, that Bazhir convict. Fought like a wolf he did. Kept me from being cut in two. Kel, I’m sorry. We should have been more careful. How many dead? How many?” His hands were clenching the sheets.

“We don’t know,” Kel replied, being straightforward. “We’re still looking.”

Neal glared at them, “Look, if you can’t hush…” 

Wyldon interrupted him, “Save your strength Queenscove. Get him so he can be moved without hurt, but we’ve other wounded. Mastiff’s healers can finish up once we get there. That goes for you too, Mistress Rosewood.”

Neal looked about to protest, while Delorah looked to Kel. A glare at Neal was all it took to keep him from protesting and Delorah took that as her instruction to obey Lord Wyldon. Kel turned back to Wyldon, “My Lord, I’d like to search the area for survivors. I’m hoping they used the tunnel to get out.”

Wyldon nodded reluctantly, “Take three squads. Be wary, Stone Mountain.”

“Merric’s fine for now. He can be moved safely,” Neal announced, pulling his magic back. 

“Too contrary to get yourself properly killed,” Kel half-heartedly teased Merric.

“Sorry, I let you down,” Merric whispered before falling asleep. 

Wyldon and Kel responded in unison, to their horror and Joren’s amusement that Merric hadn’t. After that, Kel was also given the order to round up any animals that they could locate while looking for the survivors. Joren didn’t even bother making an attempt at going with Kel for this part. He knew that Wyldon would prevent him from doing anything even slightly out of bounds for his instructions from the king. He was already pushing it just being here. Joren waited patiently for a while before a courier from Company Eight arrived and informed them that there had been a trap of four killing devices on the road, waiting for them. 

Joren cursed himself blue at the news. Wyldon ordered Kel’s group called back in and the soldiers to mount up. He glanced at Joren who approached him, “I’m surprised you aren’t demanding to come with.”

“King Jonathan specifically ordered me against single combat, Wyldon. I figure if he didn’t want me fighting one on one with a human, he definitely doesn’t want me fighting those monsters,” Joren responded with a shrug. “Besides, someone’s going to need to keep my wife from trying to rip everyone’s heads off when she learns they you have enough mages in a single company to hold four killing devices while she’s left struggling with Neal and hedge witches.”

Wyldon gave him a raised eyebrow at that, “I’ve always found Lady Keladry to be rather level-headed.”

“Oh, she is very good at restraining her wrath, I’ll give you that, Wyldon. But Kel’s definitely got a temper. You don’t think all those scuffles we got into back in page training was just my former circle of friends being pricks, did you? No, she went out, found us bullies and straight up went in for the kill. I think she thought she could beat the stupid out of us,” Joren chuckled darkly.

“Well, it clearly worked for you,” Wyldon stated.

Joren shook his head, “That took a very strict and firm Knight-Master, Wyldon. If there was one thing that you made a misstep on in our training, it was ignoring the bullying that my former group did while we were pages. If you’d nipped that behavior in the bud, Vinson may not have thought he could get away with or attempted to do what he did to those girls. What we did was wrong, and what Kel did was do her best to prevent it when you didn’t. Her friends joined in and did put a stop to it, but only because they outnumbered us.”

Wyldon frowned at this information before waving everyone, who was now ready, out and onto the road. They crossed paths with Kel’s group returning, and Joren noted that Kel was livid, in her quiet way. The squads splitting off and joining Wyldon’s column while the Stone Mountain men-at-arms helped herd the animals back into Haven. They corralled them up and penned them back into their pens. It was a bit of work getting the massive graves for the dead to be dug, though Joren knew that Wyldon wouldn’t allow time for them to make individual graves. 

Joren frowned when between breaks in the digging, Kel made more rounds as if hoping to find some of the refugees alive. It was obvious to him that the Scanrans had taken all the survivors. At mid-afternoon Wyldon sent a messenger to summon Kel and Neal to meet him at the intersection with the Giantkiller road, with instructions to bring Merric and the other wounded. He also wanted the remaining squads he left with them.

Neal complained the whole way about moving half-healed men and then got the soldiers to rigging stretchers between two mounts. The injured were loaded onto those and carried down Haven road. When they met Wyldon, he was grim, “It was a trap. Four of the monsters, no humans. The mages had to melt them to completely stop them. Company Eight got badly chewed up before the spells took hold. Queenscove…” Wyldon trailed off as if haunted by what he had seen.

They waited a moment before realizing the Wyldon had been distracted, “Excuse me, Lord Wyldon, you had orders for me?”

Wyldon came back to the present with a frown, “I did? Yes, of course. You’re the strongest healer in the district. You must check each man as we ride. The refugees are gone, long gone. The devices slowed us down long enough for the trail to go cold. I can’t waste more time searching when they’re across the Vassa by now.”

“But sir,” Kel protested. “We haven’t found but a tenth…”

“We have other problems, Stone Mountain,” Wyldon snapped an interruption. “Maggur’s got that cursed pattern, remember? Two or three attacks at once. I want us in Mastiff before he strikes if he hasn’t already. And there are other factors. I can’t explain them right now. Here are your orders: You and Lord Joren take your men-at-arms and mages, plus Sergeants Connac and Hevlor’s squads. Bury your dead. Ride to Mastiff at first light. You’ll be reassigned. Bring those farm animals and keep your eyes and ears open. If Mastiff is besieged, report to Lord Raoul at Steadfast. Do not engage the enemy at Mastiff. Understood?”

Kel was about to protest but Joren grabbed her hand and squeezed, not enough to cause pain, just to get her attention and shook his head. Just as Wyldon sighed, “We have bigger problems to concern us, Stone Mountain. Lord Joren, see to it that she follows the orders. Bury to the dead and get your troops to Mastiff.” Wyldon signaled for the rest to head out. 

As they turned and guided their horses back to Haven Kel turn to and glared at Joren, “Really? You are just going to forget the refugees.” She snarled at him, clearly angry that he was seemingly siding with Wyldon.

“Don’t be so dramatic, Kel. If you kept protesting, Wyldon would have worried that you might not follow orders and dragged you back to Mastiff. Now he thinks I will make sure you do, and we’ll be halfway across the Vassa with our men-at-arms and two mages before he realizes his mistake,” Joren stated bluntly. 

Kel’s eyes widened, “You’re going to outright disobey both Wyldon and the King?”

“Nonsense, King Jon’s orders were explicit. My responsibilities are to see to the safe passage of two hundred and fifty refugees away from the border. He said that was my only task. They currently aren’t safe, and they are probably not even on our side of the border. So, the way I see it, it’s my duty to ensure that they are safely retrieved so that I can bring them south. However, since I also have orders not to get into any one on one combat with Scanrans unless unavoidable, and King Maggur in particular, which means that I need you to assist me. King’s orders trumps Lord Wyldon’s orders, which means you, me, our men-at-arms and mages go after the refugees and the two squads Wyldon left us can deliver the farm animals to Mastiff,” Joren finished with a smirk.

Kel’s anger vanished in a flash and she shot him a sweet, if exasperated smile, “And Sergeants Connac and Hevlor are just going to go along with this because?” She asked as she glanced back at the two squads behind them.

“Because we are in charge of them and they aren’t about to disobey a lord that has the King’s ear and a great deal of influence with it,” Joren smirked and looked back at the two sergeants who he knew could overhear the entire conversation.

“He’s right, Lady Kel. You two are in charge of us. You just need to order us to go on without you and we have to obey,” Connac stated with a knowing smirk. “Who am I to disobey the orders of a great lord and his Lady Knight wife.”

They went along Giantkiller road long enough to look for trail signs and Kel found a twist of bright red yarn which she stated looked like it came from Meech’s rag doll. She then tied the yarn around her right ring finger. They then returned to Haven and got to work finishing the graves. They were done by dark. While the convicts made dinner, the rest laid the dead in the mass graves and buried them with dirt while murmuring prayers. 

After that, they burned the Scanran dead on a pyre on the other side of the river. They then cleaned up enough to eat. After supper, Joren listened to stories of the fallen that were told by the soldiers. Kel paced and circled Haven until Joren forced her to go to bed, using an arm around her waist to keep her laying down until she fell asleep. They rose early and Joren gave Connac and Hevlor their final orders. Master Ragar talked some of the sparrows into acting as scouts for the party taking the animals back to Mastiff. 

They all headed out, splitting off at the crossroads. Kel and Joren’s group making decent time, though they had to keep a slower pace, so as to not wear out the horses, they moved faster than they would have if they had wagons to contend with. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wyldon was furious, livid even. He was even contemplating murdering the Lord and Lady of Stone Mountain. Both the sergeants that he had left with Lady Kel and Joren had made it to Mastiff with the farm animals. However, the Stone Mountain men-at-arms, the couple, and their two mages had not. 

Sergeant Connac and Hevlor both shifted uncomfortably just as Lord Raoul came storming in, “Please say what the Haven convicts just told me isn’t true. Please tell me Kel and her insane husband didn’t go haring off with just two squads of men-at-arms and two mages.”

“I can’t tell you that, Goldenlake, because they cursed well did. At least it isn’t Keladry alone!” Wyldon snapped angrily making the two sergeants jump. “Apparently, Lord Joren decided that King Jonathan’s orders to ‘bring the refugees south safely’ meant at any and all costs and decided that overrode my orders. You lot should have known better.”

“They ordered us to go, milord,” Hevlor protested. “We can’t disobey an order from nobles, especially ones as powerful as the Stone Mountains…”

Wyldon silenced him with an icy stare.

Raoul dismissed them and the two sergeants fled. Raoul spoke to Wyldon in an ominous tone once they were alone, “I thought you knew her. I thought you knew both of them. Did you believe she would let them take her people? Did you really think that Joren is capable of denying his wife anything? And yet you left her, and him, with twenty loyal men sworn to serve their family, and their family alone. Just told them to bury the dead and report here… I’d’ve wrapped her in chains and brought her back over her horse. Joren, I’d’ve had to gag too. This is a girl who risked having to repeat all four years as a page to find her maid. And HE HELPED HER!”

“Gods all bless, Goldenlake, you think I don’t know I made a mistake?” Wyldon asked, deflating. “I wasn’t thinking. I had a dozen things on my mind. You would have, too, in that spot. Mithros! All those killing devices just thrown away for a refugee camp? I was sure it was a diversion.”

“If it was, then our information about next week’s attack here is wrong,” Raoul informed Wyldon. “No, Haven was another matter entirely. Five hundred-odd slaves will fuel a lot of iron monsters, don’t you think?”

“I know I erred,” Wyldon muttered numbly. “You’re not saying anything I don’t know.”

Raoul shook his head, “If she dies, Mithros forgive you. I never will.” He then left Wyldon’s office.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They found Hildurra, one of the clerks, Kel explained to the group, not far past the melted Killing Devices. They guessed by the blood staining the woman’s clothing that she had bled out from wounds sustained from the attack. There were healers among those taken, so they had to assume that the Scanrans weren’t allowing them to help the injured. 

They didn’t have time to bury the poor woman, but they did shift it so that it was out of sight from Stormwings. Kel explained that she hoped the refugees would make the enemy’s retreat a misery, because she had trained them to resist as much as possible. They had little in the way of food but Jump and a few of the other camp animals took down a boar just when the group settled down to make dinner. They also brought in a few rabbits and squirrels. They sliced up the meat and shared out parts of it with the animals before cooking the rest for themselves. 

They had made camp within Giantkiller’s walls. The men-at-arms only agreeing to do so since Kel made an offering to the restless dead of the fur and entrails of their meal. They bunked down in one of the partially intact barracks and tried to get as good a night’s sleep as they could, while resting the horses as well. 

They were woken by the sounds of others entering the ruined fort. Everyone quietly gathered their weapons and crept towards where the animals had already headed. Joren frowned at the excited noises of them greeting friends. It became obvious quickly that it was Dom’s squad from Third Company of the King’s Own. Kel marched over to the men who were still settling the horse. 

“What is going on here?” She demanded angrily. “Are you out of your minds?”

Dom smiled, “We were just debating waking you, but I guess that’s irrelevant now. Did you all get enough sleep? We can make breakfast if you want to get a bit more rest.”

“We haven’t run mad,” Fulcher, one of the squad members that Joren could recognize, stated. “We’re under orders. My lord sent us to do whatever you say needs doing.”

Kell looked at them incredulously, “My lord sent you? And you got here all the way from Steadfast, in, what, a day?”

“No, milady Kel,” Wolset, the other one that Joren recognized, answered. “Us and Aiden’s squad rode to Mastiff with my lord. Some parley with my lord Wyldon. We were there when Connac and Hevlor got in. My lord told us you’d likely be about here now.”

“You can’t do this,” Kel argued. Joren didn’t see the point. Even if they didn’t come with permission, the damage was already done. He would do his best to protect them if they were lying about their orders, though it definitely sounded like something Lord Raoul would do. “You don’t know what we’re doing, the laws we’re breaking…”

“We aren’t breaking many. I’ve got a few bases covered because of how Jonathan phrased his orders to me,” Joren interrupted. “Kel, we need all the help we can get. You know we’re going up against superior numbers. The refugees may fight, if given half a chance, but you need numbers to give them that half a chance.”

“Listen to your pretty trophy Lord husband, milady Kel. He’s not wrong,” Wolset got a glare from Joren for implying that he was just a pretty face but didn’t let it get to him. The man would see soon enough that his sword was plenty sharp and his aim with a bow was nearly as good as Kel’s.

“And we do have a good idea,” Dom added. They got the fire started and began cooking food while Kel had been arguing with them. Dom also produced bribes to entice Kel to accept their presence. There was a roll of maps which Joren suspected held all the roads north of this area. “You don’t get these unless we come too.”

“Don’t forget the purse my lord gave us for bribes,” Wolset pointed out.

“That’s blackmail,” Kel growled out. 

Joren remembered just then that he had a good deal of coin in his saddlebags, not intentionally, mind. He had brought it with him to give Kel something to spend if there were any rouge caravans risking the border so that she could buy more supplies. He kept quiet though, as he knew the others were talking Kel into letting them come with their renegade group.

“Actually, it’s extortion,” One that Joren didn’t recognize corrected. “Blackmail implies…”

His squad mates dragged him off to saddle the horses while everyone else finished eating. Kel sighed in relief and at Joren’s questioning look told him the man was named Lofren and was a bit overzealous when it came to discussing legal matters with anyone willing to listen because his father was a magistrate.

They cleaned up quickly after this, and Joren chose not to comment on Dom’s squad’s lack of opportunity to rest. He figured the group was probably more accustomed than most to no getting a proper rest while gearing up for a fight. Fortunately, Kel seemed to forget to argue further as they all saddled their horses and prepared to leave. Joren eyed Kel as she pulled out a band and tied it around her head.

“Griffin feathers keep my eyes and ears from being deceived by illusions,” Kel explained. 

Joren nodded and smirked, “Guess that little monster was good for something after all… besides being a lie detector.”

Just as they were about to leave, Hoshi and Joren’s horse, Bloodborne, whinnied in excitement. There was a response from two horses down the road. The men all saddled up with swords and bows out in lightning speed. The animals however quickly responded and Ragar smiled, “The sparrows say it’s your ‘horse boy’ and the ‘wild-man’.” 

Kel looked exasperated. When she saw them though she started cursing, “I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him very dead and leave him for the border ghosts…”

“Can we do it later?” Dom interrupted. “We lose daylight if you kill him now. Besides, Peachblossom is as good as a squad himself.” 

Kel and Joren both nodded in agreement to that. Joren smiled and greeted Tobe pleasantly enough. Kel argued with Owen as they rode north. They couldn’t waste daylight, but Owen really shouldn’t be with them. Joren agreed with Kel on that. He wasn’t even a knight. Tobe at least had magic and street urchin savvy to keep him alive, as well as Kel’s training. 

“Don’t be upset,” Owen said finally. “I had to come. We owe these people our protections. My Lord was just stuck. General Vanget sent word that the enemy will cross the Vassa into our district in five nights, when the moon’s full…”

“Owen you shouldn’t tell me this,” Kel scolded, keeping her voice down though. “I doubt Vanget wants others to know!”

“But you have to. I know you didn’t understand why my lord turned his back on all those civilians. Well, that’s why. King Maggot wants to cross with a thousand men two miles downriver from Mastiff. My lord and Lord Raoul and General Vanget are smuggling companies and mages into Mastiff before the enemy comes,” Owen protested. “Kel, it must’ve killed him to refuse to save your people. That’s why I had to tell you. I think he knew I was going. He didn’t say anything but…”

Owen left he sentence incomplete. A short while later, the sparrows came zipping up in warning. Ragar translated for them before they could get through the signals, “There’s a group of eleven approaching. They don’t know if they’re enemy or ally.”

“Maybe a patrol from the new fort,” Kel whispered to Dom and Joren. “What do you want to do?”

Dom eyed her incredulously, “Your party, Kel. Your orders.”

Joren could tell that Kel didn’t like that but then ordered them all off the road to hide in the trees with hand signals. The sparrows fanned out once more to act as sentries. Joren noted that Ragar and Delorah positioned themselves near enough to Kel to get information to or from her if necessary. 

Joren bit back a groan when the patrol came into sight. It was Quinden of Marti’s Hill with a squad of soldiers. The idiot didn’t even have scouts out. Of course, that worked to their group’s advantage, but if they were Scanrans, the patrol would be dead before they realized an ambush had been set. The patrol, thankfully, passed without being aware of their presence. Once they were out of ear shot, they group got back on the trail heading north. 

Joren was grateful that he was near enough to hear Kel’s soft conversation with Tobe and he realized the boy, an orphaned bastard who didn’t even know his own mother’s name, had better sense than a trained knight. He had to hold back the roaring laughter that he would normally have indulged in. He wasn’t so changed from his mischievous youth that he couldn’t find humor at the expense of idiocy and Marti’s Hill had proven his in spades if Kel’s servant knew what he didn’t. 

It was mid-morning when Kel’s friends, the ones who had been at Mastiff at least, caught up with them, “Go back. Have you lost your minds completely? You’re needed at Mastiff!” Kel snapped at them.

“We’re needed more here,” retorted Seaver. Joren wasn’t close to the young man but figured that he might grow on him with that attitude. “You’ll have a fight on your hands when you reach your people.”

“I have warriors! Thirty of them with Dom’s squad, and my people can defend themselves, given weapons. You have an oath to the Crown!” Kel was shouting. Joren was getting a kick out of the fact that his wife had finally well and truly lost her temper in righteous wrath when people ended up doing the things that she had always drilled into them about the need for duty and chivalry. “This is treason, you sapskulls! You can’t just decide when you’re in service to the realm and when you’re not!”

“Like you have?” Neal asked sweetly. The other knight stopped in front of Kel.

“This is different. Joren has very specific orders from the King to retrieve the refugees and bring them from the border safely. It’s not much of a defense, but he is, technically speaking, obeying the letter of King Jonathan’s orders,” Kel argued.

“Excellent! That means we can all claim ourselves under the same orders and be safe from more than a slap on the wrist,” Faleron remarked happily. Joren smirked at his friend. Kel sputtered, and Joren had to hold back his laughter once more.

“He should still be in bed! You had to tie him to his horse to get him this far!” Kel screeched. 

Merric smiled, “But I’m really well tied. I slept most of the way here.” That did it and Joren burst into hysterical laughter.

His wife gave him a death glare, but it still took Joren a few moments to recover enough to speak, “Kel, my dearest love. Heart of my heart, we will all be fine. Well so long as we don’t need to get Merric off his horse too quickly. I have learnt many lovely things about our much beloved king. One of which was that he and his friends, as young knights, directly disobeyed his father’s orders to not cross into Tusaine just in order to rescue another certain lady knight. He can’t punish us for rescuing five hundred refugees if he broke the rules to rescue his squire.” Joren finished with a chuckle.

“Sir Alanna told me about that. See, we’ll be fine. Joren’s right,” Neal stated. 

Joren watched the wind fall out of his wife’s sails and Dom teased his cousin before greeting Sergeant Connac. Joren could tell the Kel was silently fuming but hoped that she was at least a little reassured that they would be well. He also encouraged Mistress Delorah to use a bit of her magic to help strengthen Merric, just in case. 

Not long after that, Kel found another string of yarn and that seemed to calm her a great deal. Joren noticed her glance back at the group of nearly fifty people and smile a bit. Five miles later, they found another sign of the refugees passing when they found the dead wife of one of the refugees and her husband a hundred yards away, hung no doubt for protesting the disposal of his wife. Kel and the others cut him down and they placed him near his wife, even if they couldn’t bury them. 

They gave them a quick prayer and Joren hacked up a few bushes to cover them with the branches so that that had at least that much dignity in not becoming stormwing fodder. The Stormwings were following them, though and Kel lost her temper at one that was fool enough to get close to talk with her. After that, there were only the usual trail signs to follow the passage of the refugees. Fortunately, they had the animals to help look, they were more observant, and they knew what to look for. 

Thanks to the birds, they avoided a column of Tortallan soldiers heading west. Joren determined during their ride after the refugees that the animals weren’t worth their weight in gold, gold was too heavy. They were worth their weight in saffron. Far more expensive, and lighter than gold. Those birds were going to get the best seed in Tortall when they returned home.

Five miles from the Vassa, the refugee trail turned due north. Their tracks went down a gentle slope till they reached the Vassa, where there was evidence of flat-bottomed boats. Kel spotted those same boats on the opposite side of the river. Joren dismounted and while everyone discussed how to handle the situation. Joren stuck a finger in and determined that the water was too cold, not that he would risk swimming it. He still had never fully conquered his fear of drowning and now he had to face it head on once more.

It was Neal who interrupted the discussions of how to get the boats, “Military folks. The only way you know how to solve problems is by beating them with a stick.” Joren gave him a raised eyebrow, though he wasn’t going to complain if Neal had a safe way across the river.

“And you’re not military folk?” Seaver asked with a glare. “Oh, I forgot. You’re a mage. Mages think, if you can’t twiddle your fingers at it, what’s the point?”

“Lads, this isn’t valuable in the least,” Kel snapped, not willing to allow things to escalate. 

“I wasn’t referring to magic,” Neal stated smugly. “I was referring to a scholar’s way to solve problems. When a situation arises, rather than bungle it yourselves, call an expert. Follow me.”

Even though Neal had arrogantly said it, everyone, even Neal waited for Kel to give the order. One of the men-at-arms sidled up to Joren, as Kel spoke, “Will your solution get us across some time before next week?” 

“Considerably,” Neal replied firmly. “It’s not entirely legal, but I won’t tell anyone if you won’t. Joren, no snitching to the king.”

Kel didn’t take long to decide, though Joren already knew what she would say, “Let’s go, then.”

The man-at-arms was one of the ones who had talked to Joren about adopting a child, “Well, milord, when I first saw her ladyship, I wondered why you’d married a giant of a woman. Now, I’m wonderin’ why she married such a lesser man.” He joked. 

Joren gave him a raised eyebrow before smiling, “Because I was the one who was smart enough to earn her love over time, Master Palos.”

Palos Woods shook his head, “Still say she married beneath herself.”

“I think so too, but let’s not tell her that,” Joren smirked. “Wouldn’t want her to come to her senses, now would we?”

Palos chuckled and fell back into the squads of men he had brought with him. The trip down the side trail that Neal led them down looked like a game-trail, but with the slightest hints of being more than that. They forded the Brown river and were technically speaking in Scanra, but since that was their goal anyways, Joren wasn’t complaining. Any homes they came across were long abandoned, except for the last one. Neal ordered them to string out as much as possible as nearly fifty people could. 

“How did you know this was here?” Seaver demanded, still smarting from the earlier implied insult to his intelligence.

Neal smiled crookedly, “You meet the most interesting people, riding with the Lioness. They’re usually friends with her husband. Kel?” 

Kel nodded before following Neal down the track. Joren sighed, “Calm down, Seaver. Neal isn’t prone to unnecessarily risking his own neck for useless tasks. He isn’t that kind of person.”

They watched as the palisade gates swung open and a few people walked out armed with crossbows. Joren noticed Kel signaling Neal something, but was too far away to see what it was. Neal rode forward a little and began talking. After one idiot tried to grab Peachblossom, Joren snorted in amusement. The horse probably only didn’t take the man’s arm off because Tobe told him not to.

Shortly after that, an elderly woman mage appeared from behind an illusion and Joren realized that something must have brought her to reveal herself. Neal got into what appeared to be a whispered argument with the man. Neal seemed to be trying to bribe the man, but the man looked uninterested. The argument was ended when the elderly mage ordered them to do it.

“The hand of fate is on them. On her, and that man with the silvery blond hair. Bring your people inside the walls till moonrise,” The elderly woman ordered. Joren jerked when he realized that the woman was talking about him. He understood it being Kel’s fate to be going after the refugees, what with what the Chamber had ordered her to do, but why him too?

“Mother, just look at them!” The man protested loudly as everyone began guiding their horses along the path when Kel waved them forward.

“I did. Maybe you should look harder,” The old woman retorted before hobbling back inside with her cane. 

The man sighed, “Call your people in. The Whisper Man owes us large for this.”

Joren’s eyebrow rose at this information. The Whisper Man was a name that Joren did know. It was Baron George of Pirates’ Swoop. Joren only knew that because he’d had the pleasure of learning it from the king while working with him on several projects. Joren and Kel got together with Dom and they figured out the coins to pay for the passage, which was going to cost a bit due to their numbers. Still, they at least got to rest for a while, while they waited for the sun to go down and moon to rise.

Kel’s pacing was getting to the smugglers, so Joren suggested they go outside for some fresh air. With fifty odd men in the longhouse, it was cramped. The old mage stood at the half-open gate, staring blindly at the clearing before her. The couple hesitated, uncertain if they should disturb the woman.

“You’re better mannered than most nobles,” The woman stated without looking at them. “Not that we’re experts, but we see more than we ever wanted to. That moon won’t rise any faster however much you fidget.”

Joren watched as Kel forced herself to calm. It always amazed him how she could seemingly melt away the tension in her, “I thought smugglers worked in the dark of the moon.”

The old woman looked at them and grinned, “Not on the Vassa, girl. You need all the help with the Vassa you can get. We have our little arrangement, both sides. They’re well paid to overlook us on the far bank, and we’ve a friend who explained to Vanget we do more good than harm.”

“You mean the Whisper Man,” Kel stated, she didn’t ask who he was as Joren had already told Kel earlier. The woman confirmed it with a nod. The woman pointed out a fox and her kits before turning back to the longhouse. Kel paused. “You said I had the hand of fate on me and my husband on him. How could you tell? Do you have the Sight as well as the Gift?”

The old woman cackled, “Who needs the Sight to tell that much? A wench in armor, wearing a griffin-feather band. You’ve got a clever set of animals about you, and you’re leading half a company of men who don’t look like they’re the sentimental type. Oh, yes! And you’re chasing after two hundred warriors and nearly five hundred prisoners, led by Stenmun Kinslayer. You don’t need magic to see the fate in that, and more than you need healer to know you and your fold are deranged.” The old woman finished as they reentered the longhouse.

“And my husband?” Kel asked.

“He’s god touched. That tends to leave a mark on people that most with stronger Gifts can see if they know how to look. His fate was altered in some way by the gods, for what purpose, that I can’t say,” The old woman remarked. Kel and Joren didn’t argue, knowing that she was talking about Kyprioth’s interference. 

“I did try to stop them, you know,” Kel turned back to the point of everyone following her.

“That’s your fate, too,” The mage responded, releasing her arm finally. “Be happy they respect you so much they didn’t listen. It’s not like you’re off to a May fair. Not with Stenmun against you.”

After the conversation, they were given an excellent meal. Merric idiotically tried to talk Kel out of crossing and earned an exasperated look from Joren as the knight got Kel worked up again. It ended up in resulting in Kel revealing that she had been set the task of killing Blayce the Younger by the Chamber of Ordeal and the fact that she talked to the Chamber. Though, Tobe helped with that reveal. 

Crossing the Vassa was a nightmare for Joren. The drinking from the krater of potion that kept them from remembering how they crossed if questioned, that was easy. Joren hid his fear well, clenching the reigns of Bloodborne as they led the first group of horses onto the flat-bottomed boats. He forced himself to focus on keeping his horse calm as they crossed. He focused on himself on not falling over as the boat rocked as well. 

He released a sigh of relief when they were safely across and was among the first to get his horse off the boat. He glanced at Tobe, who stayed on the boat as it was brought back across, he had agreed to make every crossing so as to help keep the horses calmer. Joren couldn’t help but wonder if it was the Trickster God who had sent the boy to him and his wife, but whatever god had done so had truly blessed them. The crossing went much smoother due to his assistance than it could have. It took a few trips for the smugglers to get them all across, but they managed.

Owen’s horse was clearly of a similar opinion on the matter of crossing the river as Joren, and Neal commented that he had felt safer on ships at sea in the middle of a storm, so at least Joren wasn’t the only one who disliked the crossing. At least he only had to do it once more on the return trip. They were soon following a good-sized trail along the river’s margin to the main road north where the refugees had crossed with their captors.

“Let’s get ready,” Kel ordered them all softly. Those closest to Kel passed the word along further down the line. “Tobe, I’d better take Peachblossom now. You ride Hoshi.”

It made sense as they had a far greater risk of encountering the enemy now that they were across the Vassa. Joren rode on one side of Kel, while Merric took the other. They were quiet for the first mile before Merric suddenly asked, “The Chamber of Ordeal?”

Kel nodded. Joren sighed, realizing that Merric was still processing that bit of information. Not that he blamed the other knight, it was an unpleasant bit of information.

“You said you talked to it before we left Corus. You… you went inside?” The horror in Merric’s tone made it clear what he thought of entering the Chamber a second time.

Kel just nodded again.

“You went into the Chamber a second time,” Merric questioned, clearly in disbelief. Joren understood his position, even if he was overreacting a little bit.

“I had to,” Kel stated firmly.

“And you’re allowed to talk about it? Your Ordeal?” Merric asked uncomfortably.  
“Not the Ordeal,” Kel was being patient, more so than Joren ever would have been. “It said I could talk about the second time, the task it set me, if I could find anyone who would believe me. Do you believe me?”

“I have no idea,” replied Merric, clearly unsettled by the whole idea.

“Then we don’t need to keep talking now,” Kel pointed out. “That would be a good thing, seeing’s how we’re in enemy territory. Don’t you think?”

Merric fell back a bit after that. They finally reached the main road after another two miles and while Kel eyed the boats she shook her head and focused on leading them further along the road after glancing at the sky to check the position of the moon. Instead, she signaled for them to move out, following the trail left by roughly 500 refugees and the trail they left behind.


	21. June 8-10, 460

They followed the trail along the Vassa road to the foot of the bluffs, where an unpleasant surprise awaited them. Beside the large trail left behind, there were five dead people hanging from trees. In the ground in front of them a plank had be stuck with a sign on it: “Rebellious Slaves.”

Based on Kel’s reaction, Joren could tell his wife was livid and recognized them. They cut the bodies down and covered them with more brush before moving on. Kel was so upset by it that she hadn’t even been able to speak a prayer for them. Instead, it was Neal who performed the task for the dead. They continued on until they found a sheltered place to rest for the remainder of the night. 

Joren ensured he held her close when they curled up to sleep, Kel falling into a deep sleep almost as soon as the blanket was pulled over her. They were woken at dawn, Joren relieved that Kel managed to sleep the whole time they were there. When she asked if she had talked in her sleep and Joren confirmed she hadn’t, Dom pointed out that now that Kel was setting forward on the task, she would be free of the dreams since they were intended to remind her of the task set to her.

They ate a cold breakfast of cheese and sausage, not willing to risk a fire in enemy territory. Everyone was quick about eating and saddling their horses, allowing them to get back on their way with little delay. Kel did take time to study the maps given to her by Dom’s squad though and determine where they were and where they were headed.

Kel sent out the animals to scout for them so that they could keep an eye out for them and ordered everyone to ride in the tracks of the refugees to ensure that any enemy patrols would confuse their tracks for the refugee trail. A short while along the road, they found another bit of red yard from the end of a twig.

“That doll will be bald as an egg by the time we find Meech,” She muttered to Neal and Joren who had been riding alongside her.

Neal grinned back at her, “They’re tough, those young ones. It amazes me how tough they are.”

Joren smiled at that, “I’ll make sure the boy gets a new doll with plenty of hair when we get him safely home.” Though Kel’s amusement had already vanished. 

They reached the Smiskir road by the time the sun was clear of the eastern mountains. They didn’t have any issues finding evidence of the refugees even on a major highway like this one. Jacut, one of the convict squad that had been scouting to their left flank had found a game trail that was parallel to the road and allowed them to follow it without being seen from the road, though they would have to ride more spread out. 

It was mid-morning when the sparrows announced via Ragar that twenty-five enemy soldiers were approaching. Owen, who had been scouting on the other side of the road risked a dash across to give more information.

“We’ve got company. They’re hard men, fighters. Five carry shields. Weapons are long-axes, spears, and swords. I think they’re bound for Mastiff, right, Happy?” The horse in question pawed at the earth, clearly ready for a fight. 

Joren was grim even as he felt a spark of amusement at Owen looking for his horse to confirm his assessment. Kel was far stricter than Joren though, “Don’t let him do that. Brush it away. People will be able to tell we were here.” Owen immediately moved to follow Kel’s instructions.

Meanwhile, Kel eyed their people and considered their options, though Joren knew there was only one reasonable one. They couldn’t risk troops between them and the Vassa on their way back and they couldn’t allow men to go place further risk to their people on the Tortall side of the river, never mind that they outnumbered the enemy two to one. They’d have to kill them all, no way could they take prisoners, but Joren was smart enough to not allow it to make him squeamish. It would be harder for Kel with her innate sense of honor, but he didn’t say anything, knowing she would come to that conclusion on her own. 

All the while that she thought, she rolled a bit of yard collected earlier and when she realized what she was doing, she got a determined look on her face before hand-signaling everyone that they were going to fight. Kel got off Hoshi and called Jump to her softly before starting to give him instructions that he and the other animals had to take down the scouts. Judging by Jump’s soft whuffing, a noise that Joren had long since learnt actually meant something, Jump was agreeing, before trotting off to the other dogs and cats and apparently passing on the instructions. 

It was almost like Jump was Kel’s animal second-in-command, Joren mused. Of course, he really wasn’t surprised by that. Kel then waved him, Dom, and the other knights over, “Dom, you and your men get behind the men on the road. Esmond, you go with them to hold the enemy at the rear. If you don’t mind, let Dom give the orders, he’s been fighting longer than either of us.” The two of them nodded in agreement easily.

“Wait till you hear noise from the front before you start shooting. Don’t let the horses get away, and don’t let a man get away. Not one, you understand? Get the dead off the road as soon as you can. Nari, Quicksilver?”

The two dominant sparrows landed on Kel’s shoulders immediately when she called, “Take some of the flock. Get in from of Dom, further down the road. Warn him if anyone else comes.” The birds immediately darted away to follow her instructions before she continued. “Uinse, Connac take your men to the far side of the road, get into the trees with your bows. Seaver, Neal, Willowsbreath, you’re with them. Neal, do not heal anyone, understand me?”

“I understand,” Neal answered, his voice a little hoarse at the idea of following that order. 

“I’m sorry,” Kel whispered sympathetically. Before turning to Joren. “Joren, you and one group of our men-at-arms are on this side of the road. Rosewood you as well, same order as Neal, no healing any of the enemy.”

The mage gave an easy nod. Of course, Delorah Rosewood hadn’t spent the past eight years having Kel’s notions of noble duty shoved into her way of thinking by Kel, so it was a little different. Kel turned to Tobe, “Tobe, you’re with Joren, take orders from him. I don’t know if you can call the enemy’s horses to you once the riders are off them, but now would be a good time to see if you can. Sargent Woods, your squad is with me, we’ll hit them from the front. Duck, Arrow?” Kel looked around to locate two of the male sparrows.  
Both were on Peachblossom and regarded Kel with their button eyes in a somber manner, “Let us know the enemy’s three horse lengths back from that rock.” Kel pointed at a barely visible rock just before a bend in the road. The birds left to follow her instructions easily. Kel and Wood’s squad of men-at-arms moved towards the road, while Joren and his group readied themselves to strike from the side.  
There was a bit of a delay between everyone getting into position and Duck and Arrow shrieking their warning. Kel gave the order to charge to her men and they hurled themselves at the mass of men riding down the road. Chaos erupted almost immediately. Joren coolly started firing off arrows from his bow while those around him did the same. On the road, Kel fought like a beast, cutting down the Scanran men even as the enemy’s horses reared throwing off their masters and trotted into the wood to Tobe, who kept his eyes squeezed shut tight as he concentrated on them. 

Joren absently noted that Peachblossom was doing as much damage as Kel herself was doing. It didn’t take long for all the Scanrans to be killed and they were swiftly moving the bodies off the road into the woods. Tobe brought the enemies horses up to Kel with pride. Joren came out of the woods as well and listened as Kel instructed him to persuade the horses to wait for them in case they were needed on the ride back. She then instructed the sparrows to go and check the road ahead. 

His wife quickly assessed the situation, and Joren did as well. While there were a few with cuts, no one had any serious injuries, though Owen tried to dissuade Mistress Delorah from healing the cut on his cheek because he wanted a scar to make him look more dangerous and needed all the help he could get.

“I don’t look dangerous and I’m married,” Joren pointed out wryly. Owen reluctantly conceded to allowing Mistress Delorah to clean the cut at least after that. 

Kel drank two flasks of water before ordering them to collect the weapons and supplies and hide them under a canvas behind a rock. She then shooed away a Stormwing. Once they had the dead cleared from the road and weapons and supplies hidden, they cleaned up as much as possible while still being quick about it. Kel seemed to almost pray for the dead enemy, though if she did, it was silently, before they moved on. 

They met another party of ten Scanrans around mid-day and did the same to them as they did the first. When the first stormwing showed this time, Kel shot at it without even really trying to hit it and it quickly fled. Joren knew why she did it, stormwings were a good way of alerting the Scanrans that there was fighting on their side of the Vassa and they didn’t need unwanted attention. As they moved on from the second fight, Kel seemed to once more pray, though not for the dead this time, Joren guessed. 

Later in the day they found some empty farmsteads to rest in while their scouts checked the road ahead. One returned with horse dung, mostly fresh, indicating they were getting close. They bent over the maps once more and worked on figuring out exactly where they were on the road and where the refugees would be pitching camp soon as it was getting late. Wagons were a lot harder to manage in the dark than horses were. Kel sent more scouts out on foot to carefully locate the exact place of the encampment. She then sent the animals to call the mounted scouts in. 

Those who remained, rested and ate, feeding and watering their horses as well. The sparrows settled into the packs to sleep for the night and Joren wondered how they could be so comfortable tucked in like that. He shook off the thought and followed his wife’s choice of tending to her weapons by checking, cleaning, and sharpening his as well. 

Eventually, the scouts returned and brought back the vital information they needed. They drew a map of the enemy camp by lantern-light, “Here’s the ford. The two rivers, and this level patch. There’s a rise on the far side of the road, our side. That’s their camp.” Dom’s scout gestured to sections of the dirt map.

“There’s about two hundred fighters. Only a hundred are soldiers, and sloppy ones at that,” Uinse had been another of the scouts, he was a convict, but one that Kel liked, Joren knew and he knew his wife had good judgement. “I got close enough to hear their talk. They had two hundred more soldiers, but they rode west on the Vassa road after they crossed back to Scanra. These civilian slavetakers was waiting here. They took charge of our people. It don’t look like they expect trouble. I saw one guard nodding off, and it not even dark.”

“They’re set the wagons in a circle on the west side o’ camp,” The third scout came from the other squad of soldiers that came from Haven. “Horses are picketed here. Our folk is chained inside the wall. I heard a couple of the slavetakers say they’re never takin’ unbroke slaves again, however cheap. Seems they’ve lost wagon wheels, their horses keep goin’ lame, an’ even using the whip it takes forever to move out or make camp.”

“They whip our people?” Tobe’s anger was justified as far as Joren was concerned. 

Dom comforted Tobe with a hand on his shoulder, “That’s what slavers do. Like some whip a horse to break him to bridle.”

Despite the gruesome nature of their treatment, Joren noticed grim satisfaction on Kel’s face. He knew that the people of Haven were a feisty lot from Kel’s letters, and now they were proving it by making their captors miserable as well. Kel turned to the convict, “Uinse, did you see the other squad of convicts? Gil’s squad?”

Joren knew that name, Kel had written plenty about the former bandit that she had so impressed at age 12. When Uinse nodded, Joren noticed his wife’s expression looking satisfied, “Can anyone on that squad pick locks?” It struck Joren as an odd thing to say at first, but then he realized why she was asking and grinned crookedly as well. 

Later on, they found themselves lined up on the ridge to watch as Jump strutted into the camp, carrying lock picks that Uinse had on him, though why the solider had felt it necessary to still have the tools of his old trade on him, Joren would never know. Still, it was a boon now. The guards seem to mostly ignore Jump as he moved through the camp and stopped at a person that Joren had to assume was the convict soldier Morun. 

The guards didn’t seem to even notice the other cats and dogs that Kel used to ferry weapons to the captured refugees. Joren shook his head quietly, amazed to realize that his wife had near Daine levels of loyalty from her animals and all without a single drop of wild magic in her. They even sent in a packet of herbs that Neal swore would knock a man out cold rather quickly. The animals were little smudges at the distance they were at, thought Kel watched as they worked through her spyglass. 

They rotated watch over both the slavers camp and their own while alternating people getting some sleep in the mix. Near dawn they attacked first with a volley of precisely shot arrows, taking out the near or completely unconscious soldiers first even as the refugees with weapons killed the guards nearest them. Joren fought next to Kel as they went in to finish off the guards remaining. It didn’t take long. These guards hardly had any training at all, and simply had no anticipation of an attack on this side of the Vassa. 

Joren had stayed back as his wife checked the enemy guards to ensure they were all dead. He knew this was something that she needed to do herself, or she wouldn’t feel comfortable. Instead, he wiped his sword clean of blood and went to the nearby river to refill his water flask. He didn’t notice immediately when his wife left off checking to ensure the guards were all dead and disarmed a woman who had been angrily hacking at one of dead guards. Kel removed the girl from the activity and redirected her to the river to wash, where another, older woman joined her and Kel returned to where everyone else was. 

Joren kept back as he watched his wife seemed to assess all the refugees, thought it was clear that they were a little worse for the wear. He noted Neal and Delorah going around and healing what damage they can, though none of it was severe enough for the two healers to tax themselves. He broke off in his observations though when he heard Tobe shouting, “Lady! Lady Kel, they ain’t here! Loey and Meech and Gydo and them, they ain’t here!” The boy still slipped into less cultured speech when he was upset or worn down, Joren mentally noted. He swore that one day, no one would be able to identify that Tobe was a find from a trip north for war, but that day clearly wasn’t going to be today.

Kel nodded, “I know. They were taken?” Joren moved to stand near her to hear better.

“Sunset last night. Across the ford. They’re with a hundred and fifty soldiers and that animal Stenmun, riding,” The rather battered looking man with puffy lips and broken teeth explained. Joren felt sympathy for the man, though he had no idea who he was.

“You’d’ve been proud. They fought like wildcats, all of them. We were terrified they’d be killed, but Stenmun wouldn’t let them be hurt. Now he has them. Gods know where they’re going,” Added an older woman with clear signs of whipping on her back. 

“Across the ford where?” Owen asked the critical question.

“Upriver. Up the Pakkai,” A sturdier fellow answered.

Joren watched as his wife went about ordering people to erase the traces of the fighting and prepare to get the adult refugees south. Faleron, Esmond, Seaver, and Merric put up a protest when they realized that Kel was going after the children, and a few others pointedly stated they were going as well. Joren didn’t need to say it. It was obvious that he was going with her. Though, Kel did eye him as if assessing whether she would succeed in persuading him to return, but a single raised eyebrow was enough for him to disillusion her of any thoughts on that regard.   
He had vowed to support her work as a knight, however going with her to rescue the children when every sword mattered wasn’t an insult to Kel, it was just proof of his loyalty to her. Joren didn’t think about sending back one of the squads of men-at-arms either, they both had the men who were planning on adopting some of the children and he could see the looks of hard determination. In those men’s minds, those kids where already theirs. They wouldn’t face going back to their wives without the children they promised them. 

Once Kel managed to sort out who was going back and persuaded most of the refugees that it would be a bad idea to join them in the fight, work got under way to clear the road of evidence. It took a little work to get things underway, but when they finally left the cross-roads, the adult refugees, excepting Mistress Fanche and Master Saefas, headed back towards the Vassa and safety. Joren kept getting funny looks from Fanche as they rode. 

Kel looked like she had relaxed a bit, and Joren suspected that she had, this was a task she had spent the past six months agonizing over, being tormented by it in her dreams, and finally, finally she was going to get it resolved, once and for all. Joren would be damned if he lost his wife in the process. Even more though, Joren knew how his wife got when she saw injustice, had been on the receiving end of that justice too. Kel got like a dog with a bone about protecting the innocent. 

Joren found it interesting that while most of the camp’s dogs and cats had gone back to Tortall with the refugees, not all had. Jump wasn’t a surprise. He was loyal to Kel and Kel alone even if he was friendly with everyone not on Kel’s bad side. Joren had been on both the receiving end of Jump’s ire and his affection and he knew which he preferred. There was also one rather stubborn orange cat that ended up riding with Dom because she threw a hissy fit when they tried to hand her over to the refugees. Joren suspected that Queen, as the cat was dubbed, was a cat of similar disposition as Kel herself was. The flock was split after some skillful negotiations between Kel and the sparrows using Ragar as a translator on the sparrows’ behalf.

The riding got a little rougher as they followed the trail laid out by the refugee children along the much more restricted route along the Pakkai river. When they stopped to rest the horses, Kel used the time to gain information from Fanche, Saefas, and the convicts who had been taken on Stenmun. 

Fanche was the first to answer, “He’s a big one. Six foot five? Handsome enough in a Scanran way. Long blond hair, not as pale as Lord Joren’s mind, beard. He’s greying at the sides and in the beard, but he’s fit.”

“More than fit. He backhanded a man in Haven and crushed his windpipe,” One of the convicts added.

“He favors a double-headed axe. He’s as fast with it as you are with your glaive, Lady Kel. Brown eyes, thin nose, hard mouth,” Fanche finished giving a physical description of Stenmun.

Gil, who Joren identified by Kel’s descriptions of the man in letters added on to the information, “He wouldn’t let ‘em hurt the little ones, for all their mischief undoing laces and saddle girths.”

Saefas spoke up next, “He said his master, Blayce, wants them unmarked. He didn’t so much as look at the grown folk, ‘less we crossed him. You kept needling him.” He was looking at Fanche with the last comment.

Fanche shrugged, stiff even with the healing of Mistress Delorah and Neal to ease the pain, “I wanted to see if I could make him slip. Lots of control on that one. The men were afraid of him, you could tell.”

“One of his soldiers said he’d a man skinned alive for liftin’ supplies. I believed ‘im. He’d the look of a man that’s seen a skinnin’,” Another of the convicts supplied.

“I don’t mean to let him skin any of us,” Kel stated firmly, glancing at Joren in particular.

“But what can we do?” Owen asked sincerely. “There’s three of them to one of us, just about.”

Kel’s grin looked almost vicious. Joren absently wondered if it had ever looked like that when she planned to put an end to his bullying. Kel looked at Dom giving him a knowing look, “I learned something from Lord Raoul.”

“Which lesson would that be?” Dom asked, curious. “He teaches so many useful things.”

“When the odds are against you, change the odds,” Kel explained, not having lost that smirk. “We don’t throw a log down and try to light that for a fire. We whittle it to kindling. That’s how we’ll treat this Stenmun and his folk. We’ll whittle them down. First, though, we narrow the distance between us and them. Mount up.”

They rode on in silence as much as possible, though Joren felt the urge to break the tension they all felt, he knew it wasn’t wise to risk too much noise when they were making progress. When Tobe told them to rest, they rested, allowing the horses to recover as much as possible. They couldn’t risk the health of the horses when so much depended on them for them to make the necessary speed for catching up with Stenmun. 

Joren had to resist the urge to laugh at the children’s absolute confidence in Kel coming to their rescue as they started finding a convenient trail of buttons, buckles, food, coins, and leather scraps littering the road. Joren had to give the children credit, they were wise enough to realize that Kel would come for them and didn’t hesitate to make sure it would be as easy as possible for her to find them.

They were gearing up to stop for the night when the forward sparrows and Owen, who had been scouting on ahead returned, “They’re camped three miles up. They’re well settled and have sentries posted.”

Kel scanned the area they were at and decided they would stop there and rest, ordering no fires, unwilling to risk alerting Stenmun of their presence. While they tended their horses, Joren could practically see Kel’s mind churning as she examined and considered her options. Joren always had a mild wish to be able to read his wife’s mind as she planned things silently in her head. He imagined that it would be just as beautiful as when she laid out the plan for all to hear, perhaps even more so. 

Joren joined her as they settled down to eat cold sausage, cheese, and bread. He noted that Kel looked reluctant to eat but forced herself to do so anyways. Everyone took the opportunity to rest until the moon was up and high enough to see by. Then they all went about ensuring that they could move as quietly as possible, muffling any part of the horses’ gear that might make noise before moving out, getting in closer to the enemy’s camp. 

Less than two hours later, with the moon now overhead, they took their places in the woods around the Scanran camp. The camp location was ridiculous in Joren’s opinion, even if Stenmun didn’t expect any trouble. It was one of the things that Sir Paxton had drilled into Joren’s head during his time as a squire, never assume you’re safe enough to choose a place of low ground to camp in. If you encounter so much as a rouge group of bandits, that low ground could cost you your life, never mind the risk of flooding if it began to storm.

In this instance, it was going to cost Stenmun a heavy toll of his fighters. Kel assessed the situation more closely with her spy glass. Joren noted his wife’s smug expression and knew that she was thinking the exact same thing. She watched and examined for a little while before grabbing a random stick and snapping it. It was a good signal, because the enemy would think it was just an animal, especially when the cat started yowling like the Hunt’s hounds themselves were after her. 

Joren watched along with the others as Jump and another dog ‘chased’ the cat through the camp. One of the soldiers got up and tried to chop the cat in two with a big double-headed axe. By Mistress Fanche’s description, that was Stenmun. The cat retaliated by clawing her way up Stenmun and gouging his scalp before jumping off him and disappearing into the dark. Joren winced, scratches like those would be annoying for Stenmun going forward. 

They heard Stenmun roar about it just being animals and to be silent and sleep. Of course, this just upset the youngest of the children all the more. Joren wasn’t the only one covering his mouth to keep his laughter in at Stenmun’s folly. Even he knew that yelling at a baby did no good. Once they calmed, Joren watched his wife assess the encampment with practiced skill. He personally noted that one of the guards had taken his helmet off and one of the scouts informed them that two of the sentries who were assigned to watching the road were gambling of all the ridiculous things. 

They waited for the changing of the sentry before giving the next signal to the animals. One of the dogs started howling and soon all the other dogs and then even some wolves joined in. Once more the babies woke, and the soldiers had to settle them again. After they had just settled down, Kel signaled Tobe and the enemy’s picketed horses went crazy attempting to free themselves as if they sensed a spidren nearby. 

This forced the soldiers up once more to go calm the horses and ensure they were secure. By then, it was time for the watch to switch over. Stenmun’s men had gotten very little sleep. The majority of their own group had napped during all of this and a few woke and allowed those who were watching everything unfold get some rest until just before dawn. Joren curled in close to Kel while they both napped, and they were woken with a poke from one of the people who had been on guard. 

Joren and Kel both retrieved their bows and picked their shots. It was near silent deaths for all nine of the sentries set to the predawn watch. Once they were dead, they retreated a ways back and after some minor squabbling over safety from Neal, and Kel’s distaste for heights, which earned Joren a glare from his wife, Kel climbed a tree and they waited to see how Stenmun reacted to the deaths of his men. 

Eventually Kel climbed back down and glared at Joren for having allowed the others to make a small fire for some warm food. This resulted in some minor bickering and Dom teasing Kel. Joren rolled his eyes at Dom calling Kel ‘Mother’.

“If I’d been your mother, I’d’ve beaten you,” Kel responded without any seriousness to her tone of voice. “Bows, everyone. We’ll use the road till our forward scout spots the enemy. After that, we take to the woods. It’s risky, but we have to chance it. They’ve got little ones with all the men. No shooting unless a man dismounts and leaves the children on the horse. Remember the plans we made last night. We can do this if we go at it carefully.” 

Joren noted the grim looks on everyone’s faces. He knew the argument that had occurred over not just killing Stenmun and his now. True, Stenmun’s men out numbered them by a bit, but last night they had had the element of surprise on their side. It was gone now, and Stenmun would be on his guard. They weren’t long on the road when Stormwings circling lazily over the road closer to Stenmun than they were, were spotted. Kel swore softly as the presence of Stormwings would tip Stenmun off that his group was definitely being followed. 

It didn’t take them long to catch up to Stenmun’s column and as soon as the last forward scout was back, Kel ordered them to spread out in the northern woods. This forced them to slow down as there were various obstacles such as trees and rabbit burrows that needed to be watched for to avoid injuring their horses. 

A good while later, Stenmun’s group stopped to water their horses and they took advantage of the opportunity. Using archers, and Tobe, they took out another nine of Stenmun’s men. That took their total number of kills on his men up to 18, a fact that Dom crudely pointed out. Joren gave Dom raised eyebrow at the ‘wetting his breeches’ comment but didn’t comment himself. As soon as a scout reported that Stenmun and his people were on the road again, Kel put them back on the road, allowing them to speed up again. 

Stenmun would know that he was definitely being followed now and if he didn’t send his men after Kel’s group, it was clear he was going to go running straight for his master, Blayce, instead, which told Joren that they had to be close. A man didn’t make a run for it for a place that was more than half a day away unless he could pass undetected. Stenmun had to know they weren’t far out from wherever it was they were going, and the place needed to have some sort of fortifications. 

The additional problem was that with fewer men, they could move faster, spreading the children onto empty horses and tying them to leads. Their group contemplated how to get some of the children back before they reached their destination. Neal suggested using sparrows to startle the men and Tobe to call the horses to them. Ragar gave exacting instructions to the sparrow, Nari, who then happily rounded up the remaining sparrows not scouting and along with Gil, Saefas, and Tobe, they headed off to retrieve some of the children.

“You know, when I was growing up, talking to animals was considered more than a bit cracked,” Kel remarked to Joren and Fanche. “But the more I do it, the more reasonable it seems.”

“It helps that you know they understand,” Fanche responded sagely. “I wouldn’t want to visit that palace of yours.”

“Why not?” Joren, Kel, and Neal all asked in unison. In their travels, it was always people asking what the palace was like, and then expressions of a desire to see it themselves. Never had Joren heard someone state that they didn’t want to see the palace.

“Just your animals here are unnatural. What if you return to find the horses have decided not to work and the dogs are running the courts of law?” Fanche asked.

Joren chuckled, even as Kel grimaced. Joren shook his head, “Honestly, having actually dealt with a few magistrates who seem like they have their heads stuck up where they sun don’t shine, the courts might run more efficiently if they were run by the dogs. Dogs seem to have a good sense of good and bad.”

Just then, before the conversation could be continued, they heard a roar of frustration. Kel shook her head, “He must be hemmed in by rocks and it echoed.”

Joren smirked, “I wonder if he told Blayce how many children he was bringing with him.” When Tobe returned on Peachblossom, it was with three horse trailing behind him. There were two teenaged girls, three adolescent boys, a toddler, and an infant. Joren’s smirk gentled to a smile as he watched his wife greet each of the children in a reassuring manner.

Kel sent out a replacement scout. When Wolset came back he informed them that Stenmun had ordered his men to secure the lead lines to either their saddles or themselves. He also reported that it appeared that they were headed for a castle on a mountainside. Joren shook his head as he watched his wife contemplate her options. She ordered them to try to delay them however they could without risking the children, including asking Tobe to get the horses to slow if he could. 

It wasn’t long before the men she had sent to slow the Stenmun returned with a startling report of a minimum of a full company of armed men waiting not far ahead. Kel was frowning and then turned to Ragar, “Why didn’t the sparrows report an army ahead?” She was more confused.

Ragar looked to the birds who seemed to flutter and chirp in annoyance, “They say there isn’t one, milady.” 

“There was certainly one that we saw,” Gil argued back, equally annoyed and glaring at Ragar with distrust. “If their scouts find us, we’re dead.

Joren rolled his eyes and sighed, “Well, perhaps we should take a look for ourselves, Kel? They would already know of our presence if Stenmun went through them to get to that castle. He definitely would have told them.” 

Gil looked annoyed at being questioned, but Kel nodded and they rode through the woods until they were a hundred feet from the crest. They all dismounted, leaving the horses with Tobe before creeping up the undergrowth toward the peak in the land. Joren realized that the dogs were perfectly relaxed, which they wouldn’t be if they could scent enemy dogs, like such a large group of fighters was likely to have. The dogs were almost playful as they approached the peak. They crawled the last few yards before peering over the break in the ground. Joren forced down his first visceral fear even while Neal and Owen both swore softly and made the sign against evil at the sight of a fully encamped army on the road. 

Dom made the sign too but looked puzzled, which was Joren’s sentiment as soon as he started closely examining the army. There was definitely something wrong with the sight before him. There was no way Maggur was wasting at bare minimum a company of men to guard the road to a castle well into Scanra. Furthermore, if he was doing such a thing, Daine and George both would have gotten word through their respective spies about such an obvious reinforcement of an isolated place. Also, there was the fact that while they could hear, and even smell the encampment, there was a good, strong, stiff wind blowing and their banners were hanging limp. 

Kel straight up asked where the army was which made Joren frown for a moment even as Gil, pointed out what Joren was now was suspecting was nothing more than a very elaborate illusion. Neal added there were mages, so, they had put an excellent amount of effort into it, clearly. Owen voiced confuse to their being there while Dom pointed out their banners weren’t moving, as Joren had already noted. 

“It’s an illusion,” Joren pointed out and gestured to Kel’s griffin band even as she took it off and groaned in annoyance. “She can’t see it because she’s got her lovely band of griffin feathers. Dom’s right, the banners aren’t moving like they should and Owen’s right that they wouldn’t just be encamped here. If Maggur had sent troops to guard Blayce like this, our spies would have found out about it. You can’t send two hundred men to guard a castle in the middle of Scanra and not have it draw some attention.”

“Joren’s right, all I see down there is a village,” Kel explained.

“I hear them,” Saefas argued. “I can smell their horses.”

“It’s a very good illusion, but it’s an illusion and Stenmun is getting away,” She grumbled as she moved to stand.

Neal yanked her back down before Joren could even move to copy her, “Are you mad? I see their mages!”

Her expression was priceless, Joren noted, and if the situation weren’t serious, Joren would have even gotten a good laugh out of it. Instead of giving into the impulse to hit her friend, that was obvious to at least Joren, Kel yanked her band off her head and shoved it on Neal’s head. Joren couldn’t hold back the slight snicker as Neal turned red with embarrassment, “Very well, then, it’s the best illusion, I’ve ever seen.”

Dom commented on how it would almost be worth raiding a nest but Kel suggested against that idea. 

“Are you sure it’s an illusion? What if it’s an illusion that we’re hearing you three say it’s an illusion? It could be a fakement. We wouldn’t know until it was too late. If we’re smelling illusions, maybe we’re hearing them, too, and we’ll be chopped up before you can say ‘King Maggot’,” Owen argued.

Joren shook his head as he stood and lightly cuffed the younger man on the head, “Illusions don’t work that way, unless you’re suggesting Neal is a spy. And since we have our quarry escaping, can we please not argue semantics?” 

Neal snorted while Kel nodded in agreement, “Yes, Stenmun’s group is out of sight now and we still have a village to deal with.”

“There’s a village?” Fanche asked, she had been the only one who didn’t comment before now. 

Joren rolled his eyes as his wife groaned. Dom grabbed her griffin band and pressed it against his head, “Looks pretty dead. I don’t see movement, but there’s smoke coming from the bakehouse. There’s tools just lying about.”

“So, most likely the villagers fled Stenmun’s group,” Joren pointed out. “That could be either good for us, or bad for us. If they hate Stenmun, they may help us. If they’re terrified of him, they may turn on us to protect themselves from his potential wrath.”

Kel nodded in acknowledgement of his opinion in the matter before sending the animals to act as scouts, “The sparrows and dogs didn’t see it. That’s why they didn’t warn us. It’s a very good illusion…”

“Layered,” Neal’s voice held envy while Mistress Delorah and Master Ragar rolled their eyes at the comment. “Beautifully detailed. Almost perfect. Putting enough power into the mages so another mage would believe they were real, now that’s brilliant.”

“No, that’s common sense if you have enough magic to manage it. They teach that at the University in Corus. Doubtless, the City of the Gods taught it to Blayce as well,” Ragar refuted before tossing in a barb, Joren suspected he was still annoyed about the evident distrust that hadn’t quite been vocalized earlier. “Of course, you likely never took advanced war magic classes at the University, so I’m suppose I shouldn’t be surprised you didn’t know that.”

“If it was truly brilliant, the banners would flap in the existing wind,” Dom added insult to injury.

“Probably figured we’d just see the army and run,” Commented Fanche.

“An illusion,” Tobe shook his head in disbelief. “No accounting for these mages. What they’ll come up with, eh, lady?”

Joren noted the offended expressions of the three mages within their midst even as Kel agreed absently. As soon as the dogs and sparrows returned Ragar spoke up, “The sparrows say there is no one about, though Jump apparently has told them that they were present recently. It’s a bit odd only being able to talk to sparrows when they can talk to dogs easily…” He tacked on the comment of annoyance at the end.

“Cleared out,” Gil observed, ignoring Ragar’s comment about understanding only certain animals. Joren suspected the former hill bandit didn’t like Ragar. “And not for us. For Stenmun. They don’t even know we’re here.”

“They’re afraid of their own people?” Owen questioned. “That’s sad.”

“I wonder how many children they have,” Fanche muttered which Joren ignored.

“It could still go either way. We have enough numbers they likely won’t want to provoke us, but if they are afraid of Stenmun and looking to protect their children from Blayce, they may act out of fear,” Joren once more gave his opinion. It wasn’t for any option in particular, just a point on the risks.

Kel considered her options for a moment before nodding in certainty, “Let’s risk the village and the road. We need to catch up to Stenmun. Gil, those of you with the last forward party, ride. Try to reach them before they get to the castle. There aren’t enough of us for a siege. You have to slow them down before they reach Blayce. Sparrows, some of you fly ahead. Try to get Stenmun’s horses to slow down without scaring them. Tobe will help once he’s close. Go, go, go!” 

The prior forward party rushed back to their horses. Kel turned to the rest of them, “We’ll have to push the warhorses, I’m afraid. If we catch the enemy soon, we should be all right. Please, Goddess.” Kel finished. Horses fell under the providence of the Great Mother, so Joren knew she was praying for them to hold out. 

They mounted and rode, dogs and birds spreading into the wood as scouts. As they reached and passed through the village, it was clear that people had simply dropped whatever they were doing and scrambled for cover. Joren glanced at Ragar who gave a subtle shake of his head saying the birds weren’t finding any threats. The road rose out of the valley that held the village before leveling off. 

As soon as they reached that point, they were forced to stop as their horses reared, reacting in pure fear. Even Tobe’s assurances to them didn’t help the horses calm. The sparrows flew back to them shrieking from around the bend in the road and Ragar shouted, “Killing Machines, three of them.” He bellowed loud enough for the forward group to hear. The forward group hadn’t advanced much further due to their horses, but they didn’t have any issues joining the rest at a full gallop. 

Everyone worked to calm their horses and Kel turned to Dom as he turned to his squad, “Boys, let’s have the special ropes out.” The men were immediately turning to dig into their saddlebags, retrieving coils of rope. 

“We borrowed a page from your book. Ropes with a chain core,” Dom explained as they settled the ropes at the front of their saddles. “Oh, look, Mother. We have company for supper.”

The three killing devices walked around the bend in the road. The hammered-iron domes that were their heads swiveled back and forth on the neck grooves, questing for their quarry. Joren felt the blood drain from his face at his first sight of the things in person while they were still animated. The things spotted them, stopped, and then fanned out. 

The sparrows, to Joren’s shock, immediately moved in to attack two of them, acting as a means of distracting them. The two under assault halted in confusion trying to follow the birds’ rapid movements. The third device, however, kept coming. It’s movements were jolting, which didn’t really do much to reassure Joren. Kel rose up in her stirrups, bow in hand, taking aim and then firing even as two of Dom’s men headed for another of the devices, a length of rope stretched between them. 

Kel’s shot hit true, and Joren realized that the arrow much have been the type intended to puncture armor as it managed to pierce the dome. A larger dog performed some remarkable maneuvers to get to the arrow without getting diced by the device and breaking the shaft of the arrow. Joren’s heart stopped as he realized that some sort of wisp exited the small hole made as the device collapsed. 

Fanche asked for an arrow, which Kel handed over immediately while selecting another for herself. Dom’s men had by now managed to hook the reinforce rope under the neck of the center device before crossing behind it at a distance, trapping it’s neck. Two more men rode forward as the device was knocked off its feet and onto it’s back. These two used lassos to trap the thing’s arms before another pair secured its feet in the same manner. 

As this happened, both Kel and Fanche shot the third device in the dome. The device itself sliced the shafts of these two arrows, once more releasing what, according to the reports Joren had read, was the trapped soul of a child. Meanwhile, Dom’s men held the third device suspended in the air as they had the ropes wrapped around their saddle horns and the horses backed up to hold the ropes taunt. Dom got down from his horse and drew a war axe. He used it to smash the spiked end of the axe into the device’s dome with force. As soon as the spike was yanked free, the third soul escaped and was gone.

As soon as the device went limp, the men retrieved their ropes. Joren silently vowed to convince Jon to award small purses to anyone who faced up against one of those monstrous things. Hell, he had been near frozen during the entire thing. 

“Lady,” Tobe drew his attention from the now inert devices, “We got visitors.”

Joren and Kel looked back at the same time, seeing the missing villagers, crudely armed, but armed non-the-less, emerging from the woods. His hand went to his sword, though he didn’t draw it just yet. It was one thing to freeze at the sight of horrors like the killing devices, but he wasn’t going to freeze here, his actions were at least that much under his control.

Kel didn’t seem too concerned as she ordered Gil to take someone to scout ahead in the woods. Owen grumbled about having to potentially fight these villagers, a sentiment that Joren silently agreed with. These people looked like they hadn’t had a decent meal in a long while. She looked to Joren who nodded that he would have her back. Kel and Peachblossom advanced first, Joren, Neal, and Owen following to either side with Tobe on the other side of Owen.

The sparrows had left off to return to scouting the woods while the dogs moved back toward the Scanran villagers. Just out of bow distance from them, Kel gave the signal to halt, which everyone mercifully followed. 

“We don’t want trouble,” Kel called to them in Scanran. “Our business is with those who just rode through your village. We mean no harm to you if you mean none to us.” 

Joren resisted the urge to sigh, knowing his wife wouldn’t appreciate it. A young girl that looked to be the same age as Joren’s own brother popped out of the bushes and trotted out to stand in the center of the road. She clutched a rag doll to her chest that had seen better days. Joren didn’t take his eyes off the villagers even as Kel seemed to contemplate the situation.

The child looked at the group and then suddenly smiled. She was brown haired with vivid, almost unnervingly green eyes. Her smile seemed to be almost too pure and it unnerved Joren even further. After eying them for a moment, the girl turned back to the villagers, “That’s the one, all right. I told you she would come, the Protector of the Small. And she’s got her knowing animals, her loyal husband, the healer, and the horse boy. The armed men, the marked men, the trapper, and the bitter mother. They’re all here. Blayce will fall.”

Joren jolted when he realized exactly what the girl was implying. It also was unnerving to be referred to as Kel’s loyal husband, though he knew it was true. Joren pushed his unease aside as a man with sharp features and dull hair came up to stand beside the child to assess them himself, “She’s a seer. She prophesied that you would come and save us from the Gallan. You had better be worth the wait.” Joren felt relief wash through him with the realization that the man had all but stated the villagers weren’t going to be attacking them.

“I’m not interested in waiting,” Kel retorted, her tone almost harsh. “Every moment I sit here puts Stenmun closer to the castle and its walls. If you don’t mind, go home and let me do what I came to do.”

“You must come with us,” The little girl countered bluntly. “They’re closing the castle gates now. Blayce has your children.”

Joren risked a glance at his wife to see her stiffen, knowing her well enough to know that she would be mad to try saving them now even as she turned Peachblossom and raced off. Joren did the same with his own Bloodborne to follow her. They barely got a mile up the road before they met with Gil and his companion. Their expressions told them that the little girl had told the truth. Joren swore even as Bloodborne shuffled in agitation. 

They had no means to lay siege to the place and fifty-odd men were still significantly outnumbered by well over a hundred. Perhaps Ragar could use his magic to force open the gates, if they weren’t magically reinforced, but then they would still have to contend with over two men for the enemy to every one of their men and Ragar would be exhausted as well. He watched as his wife rode a little further up, assessing the castle walls, considering her options. He watched her pull her spyglass from its pouch and eye the walls. Joren didn’t know what exactly she was eying, but he could smell the stench of rotting flesh and had a pretty good idea of what might be on the walls that Kel was examining. 

“Kel, tell me what you’re thinking,” Joren requested as she rejoined, him, Gil, and the other scout, another convict that Joren hadn’t learnt the name of. 

“We need to figure out a distraction if we’re to manage an attack. It will have to be after dark, but how many children will he be through by then?” Joren hear the slight note of pain in her voice, she kept it low enough that the other two couldn’t hear it as they headed back to the rest of their people and the village.

“I doubt he’ll be able to start immediately. He can’t have anticipated we would be on Stenmun’s trail and there’s got to be complex rituals required to making those things,” Joren made a weak attempt at reassuring her. He had no idea if such rituals could be prepared in advance and it was clear by Kel’s expression that she didn’t buy into it.

As soon as they returned to the village, the seer girl spoke to Kel again, “Come with us. We’ll help you.”

Kel’s expression was bleak, “How? And When?”

“Tonight,” The man from earlier stated. “We know a way inside.”

Kel perked up immediately at this, “A way in? Then we can’t wait. We’ll distract them, draw them off.”

“We wait,” The man countered firmly. “There’s no cover and the way lies right under their walls. Unless you’ve a mage who can hide everyone, we’re not killing our own so you can bravely charge in.”

Kel looked to Ragar who immediately shook his head, “I’m pants at illusions, milady. Believe me, I wish I weren’t, but my magic is only good for destruction, not deception.” Neal looked a cross of smug and annoyed at the statement, given Ragar’s earlier comments about being trained for illusions at the University. 

Kel turned back to the villagers, “You don’t understand. They have nearly two hundred of our children. I want them back, all of them. How many will he slaughter between now and dark?”

“None,” Responded a hollow-eyed woman. She looked uncomfortable. “Right now, he’s arranging for them to have baths, and have their hair combed and curled. He’s showing them rooms of toys and beds with clean sheets and silken comforters. Later they’ll eat food the likes of which they’ve only dreamed.”

“He’ll talk to them, and tell them they’re safe,” Added the first man. “He’ll make Stenmun apologize on bended knee for scaring them. They’ll play games tonight and tomorrow. They’ll have kitten and puppies and more baths. They get balm on their chapped little hands to make them smooth as a lady’s. He won’t pick his first one for a couple of days, and that only if he’s in a hurry.”

“How do you know all this?” Neal asked, reasonable suspicion in his tone. “How can you be sure?”

“My daughter worked there, till he found she was smuggling poppy to the ones he’d chosen,” The hollow-eyed woman explained. “She’s hanging on the walls right now.”

Rage, these people had to feel absolute rage. He also noted that there was only one child among all of them and he doubted it was because the rest were hiding still. The first man spoke to add to the woman, “And my daughter’s there, and my son. My grandchildren went in there and never came out.” His statement confirmed Joren’s thoughts.

“Your children work for him?” Owen’s distain was clear as he spoke, even as Joren kept quiet. “They lend themselves to that?”

“He says if they don’t, he’ll kill us,” Another woman shot at him harshly. “He tells us that if we refuse to till his fields, he will kill them.”

Joren looked at his wife as she considered them and the village itself. Neal was the next of their group to speak, “I don’t understand. He doesn’t need that for death magic. Clothes, or food, or toys. Bathing, maybe for purification, but the rest makes no sense.”

“He doesn’t do it because it’s needed,” The hollow-eyed woman stated with scorn, “He does it because he likes it.”

“He could use any ghosts for his magic,” The seer girl explained, holding her doll tight. “As long as the king in Hamrkeng gets his evil metal creatures, he doesn’t care who Blayce uses or how he uses them.”

“At least, he doesn’t care if our children are used, or yours across the border,” The dull-haired man stated. “It would be different if Blayce wanted nobles’ children.”

He paused and shook his head as if to clear it before eying Kel again, “Well? Do you want in, or don’t you? Will you rid us of him, or will you stay here like a herd of cows?”

Everyone else looked to Kel but she hesitated before looking to the child seer, “You’re sure he isn’t killing them right now?” She asked.

The girl closed her eyes. When she spoke, it was with a thin, whispering voice that Joren both did and didn’t recognize, “He welcomes them as his own. He says they are safe now. They are to have sweets, hot baths, a feast, easy dreams. He makes his dog, Stenmun, grovel for them. It is your time, Keladry of Stone Mountain, Protector of the small.” The child staggered as the source of the voice released her. The dull-haired man caught her, picked her up, and walked down the road towards the village. Kel moved to follow.

Neal stopped her though, “Kel, who was that?” Joren had a guess but wasn’t certain, having only heard the voice once before. The others stared at Kel, clearly wanting an answer as well.

She sighed, “It was the Chamber of Ordeal. It sent me here, sort of.” Joren felt a chill down his spine as his wife confirmed what he suspected. 

One of the convicts perked up at this, “Then we’re to succeed? If it’s been foretold?”

The hollow-eyed woman gave him a crooked smile, “Irnai, the seer child, she says your chances are one in two. Since that’s better than ours, we’ll pray for you.” Joren shuddered slightly. Still, given the circumstances, those were rather good odds, certainly better than what he would have thought them to be.


	22. Blayce's Castle

As soon as they got a look at the villagers’ barely present stores of food, Joren watched as their group banded together to feed everyone. He followed his wife only as far as to the outside of the building they had food going in which was the local alehouse. He knew that she wouldn’t be able to rest right now, as much as she probably needed it. Joren secretly suspected that the gods had compensated for his wife’s frequent lack of obvious emotions with an abundance of impossible energy stores. It was the only explanation for how she seemed able to keep going, even as he knew everyone else was starting to show signs of wearing down. 

He watched Kel speak to the man who had first spoken to them, who had introduced himself as Zerhalm, when she reentered the building, “Why are you so starved when your fields are clearly flourishing?”

Zerhalm laughed harshly, “We’ve a mage in the castle, in case you’d forgotten. Most of it goes to him, and he knows what’s due. If we hold anything back, like our children, Blayce has Stenmun grab one of us, skin him, and hand him from the castle walls to wait for death. Or her, in my wife’s case.”

“Why don’t you go to his overlord?” Owen demanded to know. “Or even to the king in Hamrkeng, and ask for justice?” 

Joren shook his head at the obvious naivety of his young friend. Zerhalm snorted in distain, “We did. King Maggur has made a pet of this mage from Galla. Couriers say we’ll eat like kings when we’ve land in the south, but we don’t hear of any great victories.” Joren winced in pity. He hadn’t heard of any victories because Scanra hadn’t had any. Tortall had, overall, better fighters, better trained mages, and better supply lines. The only thing that Maggur had going for him was the killing devices and while they were scarier than Joren had imagined, they, ultimately, weren’t going to be enough to win this war for Maggur. Especially not if they managed to do away with Blayce. Joren had learnt enough dealing with Numair that the more complex and against nature a working was, the more likely it was to fail the moment that the caster died. Death magic was something that always fell into this category. 

“Have you no children left? He took them all?” Kel’s question was laced with horror as she realized what Joren had already considered most likely. 

“First it was just the prettiest girls and boys, around ten-years-old,” Zerhalm’s eyes were haunted as he spoke now. “Those days, we didn’t know it was him. We’d go to bed and wake in the morning to find them gone. Next went the pretty ones who were nine, eleven, twelve. Around then we found our weapons had gone missing. Our bows, our spears, all we used to defend ourselves from raiders. We went to him for help against the thieves and for weapons to fight them with. Stenmun had his men beat us, demanded our older boys and girls as servants, and kicked us back home. We were told to feed the castle and not ask questions. Then the young children went. The warlord Rathhausak, King Maggur now, he came to the castle. We begged him for help. He had ten of us killed and hung on the walls.”

“Your children? All?” Kel’s voice was soft, as if she didn’t want to believe what she was hearing.

“Even the ugly ones, the crippled ones, the slow ones, the babes in their cribs, over winter this year,” Zerhalm’s voice turned to a whisper, pain clear as day. “All. And in every village hereabouts. They brought more children in by the cartloads, under Maggur’s banner, so no one would try to save them. Our neighbors, folks beyond, the lords of Scanra were afraid to protest. By then Rathhausak had their wives and children.”

“What about the seer?” Owen asked. “The little girl, um…”

“Irnai,” Kel supplied.

“Why doesn’t Blayce have her?” Owen questioned. It was a fair question too, if you didn’t consider that Shakith would likely protect one of her own. After all, if Kyprioth interfered on Joren’s behalf, when Joren was fairly certain he didn’t really deserve such interference at the time, surely Shakith would protect a child seer who likely did deserve such protection.

“I don’t believe he knows she exists,” Zerhalm answered. “She walked in here a month gone. Never said where she lived, who her people are. Told us the Protector of the Small was coming. Told us it was our best chance. Forgive my saying, but you don’t look like much of a chance to me, not against Blayce and Stenmun and a hundred and fifty men-in-arms in the castle.”

“He had a hundred-seventy at midnight last night,” Gil pointed out. That earned him a grunt from Zerhalm.

“Pessimist,” Neal remarked as he healed something on an old man’s leg. 

Joren snorted softly, “You’re one to talk.”

“Four years of Blayce the Gallan does that to a man,” Zerhalm retorted at the same time.

“Then he wasn’t always here?” Fanche questioned as she checked an arrow.

“Not if we call him ‘the Gallan’, Mistress,” Zerhalm told her. “That’s where he said he was from.”

That earned him looks from Fanche and Saefas.

Zerhalm sighed, “This was Fief Rathhausak, once. The line dwindled. Young Maggur went off to foreign lands to be paid for fighting. He came home, but once, took his family with him, just his mother and an old aunt. We were happy with no lordling over us, till Maggur gave the castle and lands to the Gallan.”

Joren could read the barely discernable contempt his wife’s face was showing. He contemplated how to turn the conversation away from the lack of care Maggur had shown the people he was supposed to care for. Thankfully, instead, she turned her mind to strategy instead. She grabbed a stick and began a rough map of the castle walls and surrounding lands in the dirt. The hollow-eyed woman, Agrane, she’d said her name was, knelt next to her and added to the map.

“I was cook, until the Gallan decided I was too old and ugly to keep. Would I had put metal shavings in his food before that. It wasn’t until after that we learned he was taking our little ones. We’ll bring you up through the cellars, past the dungeons. Now, here’s the underground level. Here, is the ground floor and the castle grounds inside the wall,” Agrane drew maps next to each other of the corresponding levels as she explained. 

Soon, other villagers were adding to the maps and made suggestions, based on what they knew of the layout of the castle. Joren allowed a smirk to creep across his face as he watched his wife expertly examine the maps and ensuring they were accurate as the villagers could manage. He realized that Maggur, and Blayce’s, biggest mistake was something that any good lord learns as a child. If you don’t take care of your people, they can turn against you, aiding your enemies. It was a lesson his mother had taught him, and his father had neglected, which is why his mother had ultimately won their battle for control of Stone Mountain, even before his father’s death.

Now, his wife was going to take advantage, just as his mother had, in a much more lethal manner on Blayce and Stenmun. Here were the people, who should have and would have been loyal if only they had been cared for properly, handing his wife all the information she needed to prepare a hopefully successful assault on the castle. As his wife laid out the attack plan, Joren couldn’t help but feel a level of smug satisfaction. 

Naturally, the children they had rescued already were to stay hidden in the village, but Tobe would go for the warhorses. Some of the villagers would go with them as guides. Kel and Joren would go in and fight on foot, but their horses would be going in through the gate with the others and would be just as good as four men in battle apiece against the castle’s soldiers. 

By the villager’s best count, there were nearly one hundred and fifty armed men inside the walls, not counting those that their group had killed on the road, “The main thing is to hit fast and hard. We take them by surprise, before many can so much as grab a weapon. If you don’t like hitting them when their defenseless, remember they help Blayce. Now, rest, all of you. We leave at moonrise.” 

Joren went with her as she walked outside the village alehouse. She seemed to wander a bit before pausing beneath the tree where her sparrows roosted for the night. She was whispering to them when Dom and Neal approached them.

“I wish you’d let one of us go in with you,” Neal began. Joren snorted in offense, as if he couldn’t have his wife’s back. Neal glared at him. “You haven’t seen real combat since you were a squire Stone Mountain.”

Kel shook her head, “Joren is a better swordsman and archer than you, Neal. Besides, Connac’s and Gil’s squads will do well inside. Dom and his lads on horseback will create more confusion when they get in. You’re better placed with Dom. Your group will be in more danger from archers than mine. Also, I will need you to help Joren get our people home if I don’t make it or take command if Joren and I both don’t make it. If we die in there, you have to get our people home. Listen to Dom, he’s more used to commanding groups. But your duty is to take our folk back to Tortall.”

Joren’s heart clenched at the idea of losing Kel. He had purposefully put the idea that it could happen out of his head throughout the entire trip and he refused to acknowledge the idea now, either. Dom sighed, “We’d best take these people, if they’ll go. Leaving them here for King Maggot seems like a bad idea.”

Kel scowled before clearly agreeing, “Will you talk to them? After, I suppose, if we get and after.”

“We’ll get it, Kel. I have faith in you,” Dom stated seriously.

“So do I,” Neal added, though he was clearly unhappy with her considering her own potential death. 

“Me too,” Owen had snuck up on them. “It’ll be jolly, Kel. An evil mage destroyed, a chance to take a bite out of Stenmun and his men, isn’t this why you became a knight? It’s why I wanted to be a knight. I may not get to be one now, but it’ll be almost worth it, to rob Maggur of the killing devices. And I thought we were supposed to rest, and here you four aren’t doing it.”

“We’re coming, Mother,” Kel teased Owen with a crooked grin. “Or did you learn that from Wyldon?”

Owen’s own eyes were light with mischief, “Nope. I learned it from you, Mother.” Kel made a playful swipe at him as he ran for the house that they were supposed to rest in. 

“That boy makes me feel old,” Neal complained as they settled down to rest.

Joren chuckled grimly before coaxing his wife to lay down with him for a nap.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The hidden entrance to the castle was along what barely quantified as a goat’s track in Joren’s opinion. There wasn’t much space between the trail and the drop into the freezing Pakkai River. The moonlight barely was enough to give them sight of the path. Kel slipped on some of the rocks and Joren was grateful to both Zerhalm and Gil who had reacted quickly enough to keep her from sliding into the river. Going into a river like that in full armor was a death sentence for certain. 

Agrane was leading the way for their group to a runoff tunnel from the castle’s depths. Joren silently swore he would reinforce Stone Mountain’s own tunnel in the near future as he hadn’t really thought of it before now, and he doubted his father had thought of it ever, but not securing properly was clearly a bad idea. Joren doubted his wife relished the thought of wading through the human waste any more than Joren was, but it was hardly an evil compared to the fate of those children if they didn’t get to them quickly. 

Their group halted and Kel signaled silently to wait. He watched his wife shuffle ahead as she approached Agrane who was running her hands over a solid wall. The former cook sounded angry, “I don’t understand! It was right here. I always counted the steps in and out!”

“They bricked it up?” Zerhalm questioned as he ran his hand over what looked like seamless wall. It didn’t look like there was anything ever there, but Joren doubted these people were running a ruse on them. Especially since Kel appeared to be able to see something that they couldn’t and got to the front of the group.

Kel almost seemed to reach through the wall and Joren realized that it must be an illusion even as Kel spoke, “It’s an illusion. An illusion that they filled it with rock. That’s so shoddy. He expends magic to hide the thing, but then he doesn’t replace the grate. Mages… so lazy,” Kel muttered as she began extracting what amounted to severely rusted bars that were nearly crumbling as Kel pulled them out. Joren noted that they were iron and realized that it might be wiser to replace the grate over their runoff tunnel with steel bars. It would far more expensive, but the safety of his people was worth the expense and it wasn’t as if his family was hurting for money. 

Joren mentally noted he should suggest Cleon do the same with his repairs if he hadn’t already replaced the grate at his castle. From there, Kel leant down and seemed to do something before coming back without her weapons and helm. She then held out her arm to Agrane and Joren realized that she was going to have to help them all through the illusion as it likely felt real to those who could see it. 

Joren was helped into the tunnel just after Gil and his nose wrinkled at the scent. He had to bend a little to keep from banging his head on the top of the tunnel. He didn’t take his helm off, not wanting anything that clung to the ceiling getting into his hair. Instead, he bent even further. His wife, who was taller than him didn’t have that luxury and had been forced to remove her helm while carrying her glaive and bow in hand, unable to have them on her back. 

Once more Agrane led the way through the tunnel. Joren had pulled out a kerchief from one of his pouches to help fight off the worst of the stench, though, he suspected he was going to have to burn the clothing and padding he had on underneath his armor once they got back to Mastiff. They walked for a good while until Agrane halted the group beneath a grate. It was clearly better maintained, but once more Blayce’s hubris was evident as Kel was able to lift it and ease it off to the side. His wife then braced her arms on either side of the opening and jumped, levering herself up out of the tunnel. Joren watched as Kel assisted Zerhalm and Agrane out of the tunnel before preforming the same maneuver as his wife, just to prove he could.

Kel shook her head at him as he turned to assist the others out, figuring it might prove to be too much for the half-starved villagers. Agrane instead lifted bags full of dogs up and one cat. It didn’t take too long, Joren realized with concern that while the regular soldiers were solid and healthy, the convict soldiers didn’t weight much more than the villagers and neither did Saefas and Fanche. 

The storeroom they were now in was covered in dust and mostly empty, but for some burlap sacks which they used to get the worst of the mess from the tunnel off of them. Once they had gotten what they could off of them, Kel tested the door and finding it unlocked, eased out of the room. Joren and Agrane were just behind her. Joren had drawn his sword, ready to kill if he had too. Kel used Jump as a scout since a small dog wouldn’t be entirely out of place in a castle full of ratters. 

The next two halls were empty. The third was better lit and lined with locked metal doors. Kel waved to the man, Morun, Joren had finally learnt his name, that was a picklock. Morun immediately got to work while Joren and Kel watched the stairs to the castle’s upper levels. From behind the locked doors came out the castle servants, locked up at night to prevent them from escaping. When Kel tried to get them to leave through the tunnel, only a few, the weakest looking, went. The rest showed them the empty guardroom where they helped themselves to the weapons there. 

The dogs and cat went up the stairs to scout further for them. Agrane had told them that once the servants were locked up for the night, Blayce retreated to the upper floors to play with the children and use his work room. The soldiers went to their barracks, were they could ignore what happened in the keep. Joren shook his head at the stupidity of that. There was a reason why even the most secure dungeons had guards. Instead, they supposedly just locked them up and left them alone. Kel wisely sent the dogs and cat to scout the ground floor and upper floors just to be certain the routine hadn’t changed. 

Slowly, the dogs and cat trickled back down the stairs and gave their reports in what had to be the oddest conveyance of answers through tapped paws, standing on hind paws, shakes or nods of their heads and tiny, quiet yips. If he hadn’t been informed by his wife that Daine had expanded these animals’ minds, he likely would have been stunned and marveled at the scene as the villagers were. Instead, he had enough experience with the wild mage to know that this was what one expected from exposure to the demi-goddess’s magic. 

Kel informed them that the ground floor was clear, and the second floor held the children. The third held a lone adult male in a room with a closed door. Their group creeped up the stairs to the ground floor and into the main hall. It was decorated as any hall would be in an older keep. Kel sent a small group up to the second floor to get the children. A second group exited the castle through the kitchen, where they were less likely to be noticed. Joren noticed his wife fidgeting until the first child appeared at the top of the steps. 

The little boy was dressed ridiculously in over the top, pure white clothing, but still clutching a ragged doll with half a head of red yarn hair, rushed down the stairs to Kel and hugged her as best he could around her armored waist. He was followed by a flood of other children that all seemed to need reassurances from Kel. She in turn did her best to give it, with liberal, if quiet kisses to the heads of those she could reach and hand clasps to all the rest. 

The group of adults that had gone up to the second floor finally came down with the babies. The infants had been given drops that Neal had supplied to keep them sleeping till the morning. The dogs came down with them. It took Kel a short while to convince the servants to get the children out through the tunnels. Anytime the servants moved to argue, Kel silenced them with a finger to her lips and they eventually understood what she was telling them. She wasn’t giving them a choice. 

The servants herded the children down the stairs towards the tunnel, though Joren noticed that two of the older girls hadn’t gone. Kel tried to quietly persuade them to go as well, but the two girls, nearly teens if they weren’t already, stood firm. Joren shook his head as they moved to the kitchen hall. Those who had gone ahead to this area waited, prepared to use the long tables to barricade the barracks’ exits with the tables. Kel handed off her glaive to Gil before she strung her bow. Joren sheathed his sword and did the same. Kel handed out her griffin fletched arrows, Joren receiving a few himself. 

This would be the hardest part. The had to quietly kill the men on the walls so that they couldn’t rouse those in the barracks before they got the gates open for the rest of their people. Joren glanced out into the courtyard just after his wife did, noting that it was as well-lit as Agrane had told them it would be and laid out exactly as she described. Once more, Joren marveled at the idiocy of Blayce for angering the villagers to the point that they would happily help the enemy in vengeance for his actions. He watched as his wife began to make the locations of the sentries, who were thankfully facing outward. Joren spotted the wagons as Kel pointed them out to Connac’s men who nodded and crept over to them. Joren followed his wife out of the castle carefully. 

He watched as Kel signaled to everyone with bows to which sentry to take down. He fitted his griffin-fletched arrow and took careful aim of his target. His, Joren shot just at the base of the neck, where it wasn’t protected by the helm or his jerkin. The man immediately crumpled. Joren was fairly certain he’d hit the man’s spine given that he had fallen like a puppet with its strings cut. Kel put two arrows in her target, hitting him in the back. Gil’s first arrow glanced off his target, but he was swift to nock a second arrow and firmly plant it into the man’s eye and he too went down. The others were also true in their shots, taking down the men before they had even the chance to rouse anyone. 

Connac’s men wheeled the wagons in front of the doors to the side and rear of the barracks, firmly blockading them. The men with the tables, braced them against the shuttered windows silently. Kel began signaling people to get into position to kill anyone who made it out of the barracks. Others went up to where the portcullis could be raised. At her signal they began to raise it. The noise from the portcullis was enough to start waking people in the wheelhouse, who were swift to be cut down as they were unprepared for an assault.

It didn’t take long for there to be a racket coming from the barracks and then things became hectic. Joren found himself quickly in the thick of things, first killing those who managed to get out of the barracks through the unbarricaded windows and then others who managed to get out while still armed. A few men in, Joren glanced at the gates and saw them open with the rest of their people flooding through the gates. 

Throwing the horses and the other men into the mix, and chaos ensued, especially when two of the tables were knocked away from blocking the shuttered windows. This gave more men safer exits from the barracks. Joren was forced to focus on his opponents and not able to keep track fully of what everyone else was doing in the fray. Joren was quickly separated from Kel, to his annoyance, but he kept cutting down men with annoying ease. For the most part, these men were poorly trained. At some point he knew he had gained a shallow cut to his leg in a lucky swipe from one and another slightly deeper cut to his left arm from another. 

Just as things were dying down, Joren began looking around to see if he could find his wife and saw that a lingering Scanran fighter was about to strike at one of his men-at-arms from behind and dove in to prevent the unnecessary death. He managed to succeed at that endeavor, but not without a price. The Scanran got a glancing blow across the left side of his face, and while Joren was certain it wasn’t life threatening, he judged by the level of pain that he might have lost his left eye, though he hoped he didn’t. The man-at-arms, one by the name of Claus, produced a clean kerchief from a pouch and then tore a strip of fabric from the dead Scanran to bind the kerchief over his injured eye. 

Joren didn’t wait for further assistance, he scanned around with his good eye and noted that all that remained were their people standing, though their numbers were down a bit. Joren grabbed a nearby discarded spear and used it to brace himself as he stood again, feeling the pain in his leg and arm more fully as the adrenaline from the fight faded. However, the lack of a visual on his wife was enough to have Joren feeling concerned and renew the adrenaline.

He limped over to Neal who was working to keep Gil alive, “Where’s Kel?” 

“She went inside to deal with Stenmun and Blayce. You should get your injuries seen to by Mistress Rosewood, Joren. You look done in,” Neal commented as a glance showed real concern over his injured face.

“Later. I need to find Kel first,” With that Joren headed straight back for the keep as quickly as he could on his injured leg. 

Thankfully, no one tried to stop him, though Joren suspected that was more because even in his current state, they knew better to get between him and making sure Kel was well. Joren carefully scanned through the rooms on the first floor. Though he didn’t expect to find her there, he didn’t want any stray fighters to catch him unawares. Once that was clear, he did the same thing on the second floor before heading for the third floor. Here, he found Stenmun dead, though clearly not long so. His wife had slashed the man’s throat, caved in his skull, presumably with the base of her glaive, and judging by the odd angle of the man’s legs, had gotten him down by using a leg sweep. His body was littered with other various superficial cuts, but how he’d died was clear enough to Joren. His wife had gotten him on the ground, slammed the base of her glaive into the man’s skull, killing him, and then cut the throat to be certain that Stenmun wouldn’t be getting back up. 

The door beyond was Joren’s next focus, he made a few steps towards it, only to curse in realization that there was an illusion over the damned thing. Just then it broke, though and he was able to proceed forward. As he got through the door of what was clearly a workshop for the mage, Joren saw his wife standing over the mage, dead, beheaded by his wife, with her glaive. 

“You’re wrong about my king, I think,” Kel spoke to the body, clearly not aware that Joren was there. “But better that he not have the chance to be tempted by the likes of you. And frankly? What you just got was far more merciful than you deserve.”

“Well, you always were the one prone to mercy, love,” Joren couldn’t help saying with a chuckle to Kel. She whirled around and then staggered, as if disoriented.

Joren moved as quickly as his leg would allow him to stabilize her, “I see you got here to see the end of the show. What happened to your face?” Kel groused as Joren held her upright.

“I got that lovely scar-to-be from a lucky strike by a lingering Scanran while saving one of our men-at-arms. I swear, you’ve made me soft,” Joren fake complained before he looked around the room carefully and frowned. “There’s something wrong with this room… It’s too small.”

“What are you talking about?” Kel groaned as Joren pulled away from her, leaving her to lean against her glaive for support.

“I checked all the rooms on my way up to make sure none of Blayce’s men decided to save their skin by hiding in the keep. Based on the sizes of the rooms below, this room should be at least double this size,” Joren tried not to lose his balance, having difficulty with his orientation due to his limited sight. He headed for one of the bookshelves and started pulling down all the books. When they were cleared off, he shook his head and tugged on the torch scones in the wall until one gave easily and a loud click could be heard before a slight grinding noise. A glance along the wall revealed that part of the bookshelf had shifted. 

Joren went over to it, and shoved, with no little pain in his leg now, revealing a hidden second room, filled with papers and books. Kel’s jaw dropped open in surprise, “How did you know to look for that?”

“One of the towers has a room like it at Stone Mountain. I found it just before I started page training. I only just remembered it just now. It is filled with a bunch of old books and a suit of armor, woman’s armor. I figured no one else knew about it, since if they did, my father would have destroyed it. I never told him, unwilling to face his wrath by pointing out evidence of our family possibly having a female knight in it at one point. I never really investigated it. Didn’t know what to do with that sort of information. We can check it out when we get back to Stone Mountain, if I am ever allowed to leave the capital again,” Joren joked as he walked over to his wife, leaving the door to the hidden room wide open. 

As they moved to leave the room, they saw the door had changed to that of the Chamber of Ordeal from the inside. It had a face sculpted into its keystone, with yellow eyes, and it spoke directly to Kel, ‘Very tidy. I said you would do it, and you have.’

Kel looked annoyed, “Yes, it’s done. I ‘fixed’ it. I killed a swordless man and saw a lot of good people murdered. Now you have your balance, I have the little ones, and you and I are quits. Understand? Find someone else to do what you can’t.”

Joren would have laughed over his wife practically growling at an elemental if he had the energy. The Chamber spoke again, ‘Yes, we are finished. Do you think this makes you free of your fate? You are the Protector of the Small. You see real people in the humans and animals overlooked by your peers, and you teach others to do so as well. There will always be work for you.’

His wife scowled, “I don’t mind that. It’s what I mean to do, though I’d never call it by a silly name as Protector of the Small. At least now I know where I’m going and what I’m doing, which I never did with you. I can find my own road from here.” Kel moved forward and Joren with her. Mercifully, the door opened to Scanra, Joren didn’t want to contemplate the implications of the Chamber being physically present so far from Corus, but he knew he would not have a pleasant time explaining it to the King when he got back.

As they left the room, the Chamber left them with what Joren was certain was meant to be a parting tease, for all that it was in a monotone manner, ‘Gods all bless, Keladry of Stone Mountain, Protector of the Small.’

Kel grumbled about Chambers that thought too highly of themselves as they limped their way down the hall. Once they were past Stenmun’s corpse, they saw the cat that had come north with them. Kel was kneeling before Joren knew what she was about and clearly disoriented from it. That was when Joren noticed the bleeding wound on her shoulder and swore as he helped her back up and with some maneuvering, managed to drape the cat across his opposing shoulder before he assisted his wife in hobbling down the rest of the stairs.

Kel attempted to stop at the base of the steps, but Joren kept her from doing so. She had clearly lost more blood than he had, and he wasn’t about to let her pause as he was certain he wouldn’t be able to get her back up if she went down. He managed, to just barely get her through the keep’s doors before she slumped to the ground.

Neal and Delorah rushed over to them to tend to them both, as Joren decided that he needed to sit as well. He attempted to stand on his injured leg when they, along with some of their battered group, tried to move them away from the keep a bit, but his leg buckled under him. Joren gave only a token protest to Saefas and Fanche who braced him on either side so that he could stand while Neal and Dom took hold of Kel and carried her to a pallet on the courtyard, while Mistress Delorah assessed her. 

The female mage looked like she was in a fresher state than Neal was, but Joren wasn’t too surprised by that, as she hadn’t participated in the fight. As soon as they were both settled, Neal and Delorah got to work immediately on Kel’s shoulder, while Joren, now drained of the adrenaline completely fought to stay conscious. He lost that fight quickly as Neal waved Mistress Rosewood off from Kel and ordered her to tend to Joren. 

The woman took one look at him and with a flow of pale pink magic, Joren was knocked unconscious. Joren woke sometime later, before his wife did though, just as the sun rose. The first few moments, Joren was slightly disoriented, as, while he wasn’t in a lot of pain, he couldn’t see out of his left eye, and then he remembered his injury the night before. 

Tobe popped up from where he had been napping on Kel’s other side as Joren reached for his left side of his head, startling Joren. The boy softly apologized, “Mistress Rosewood said that the damage to your eye was too severe. Not even Duke Baird could restore sight to an eye that’s been tore out like yours was. She was surprised you even managed to stay upright through the pain.”

Joren shook his head and lied a bit to the boy to keep him from worrying, “I’ve always had a strong control over my pain and in the heat of the moment, I probably didn’t even realize how bad the damage was.” His leg was rather stiff too, to his annoyance. Joren also noticed they were surrounded by dogs as the others were working to gather their dead for a pyre. Neal had noticed Joren sitting up, Joren realized as he scanned the courtyard with his one good eye.

“I don’t know who I should be angrier with, your or your wife,” Neal grumbled even as Joren turned to assess his arm. “Your leg should be fine to ride with now, but before, you shouldn’t have even been standing on the blasted thing, never mind your face. At least you don’t have to worry about being called a pretty boy anymore.”

“Be angry with Kel. King Jonathan is likely already preparing his five-hour rant about being reckless when he needs me for keeping the conservatives in line,” Joren retorted before pushing the sheet he had over him off stiffly. “I take it, if I can ride, I can stand on my leg, or will you through a fit over that as well?”

“Well, yes, now you can, but I recommend not doing it without something to brace yourself with. I left a spear over here that you can use as walking staff for now. Riding isn’t going to be pleasant for you though. We had to spread our healing out to get everyone in shape to be able to ride,” Neal grumbled.

“Aren’t you glad I managed to find you some help?” Joren asked mock-cheerfully as he nodded over to where Mistress Delorah was working on Saefas. 

“Of course, though I doubt you were anticipating our northern excursion when you hired her,” Neal pointed out while checking Kel’s shoulder and then putting a little more magic into it.

“No, I wasn’t, but I still brought her to help you, though she would have answered to Kel alone,” Joren pointed out. “She and Ragar are staying too. While I return to face King Jonathan in all his wrath.”

“You seem less optimistic about your treatment, now that we’ve managed to rescue the children and only have the task of returning back home,” Neal pointed out as he moved over to Joren and moving the bandage that was covering his damaged face before shaking his head. “Though, I imagine King Jonathan won’t be happy to see his pet Lord prime-minister-in-waiting in such a rough state. You’ll be wearing a patch over that eye socket for the rest of your life.”

Joren grimaced at that, “At least I didn’t disgrace myself in the process. Two hundred children saved is worth an eye, I would say.”

Neal was somber as he spoke this time, “You’ll never be able to fight again, Joren. That leg… you real shouldn’t have been on it after it was injured. Gods, I don’t know how you managed to stay standing on it at all. The bastard who go you, cut the tendon. We reattached it, but you’ll always have a limp in your right leg and between that and the eye.” Neal shook his head in apology.

Joren shrugged, “It wasn’t like King Jonathan was going to let me near a battlefield again, anyways. At least this way no one can claim he’s keeping an able-bodied man from serving on the front to manage some of the more complex politics for him.”

Joren had managed to get up by that point and then turned to watch as some of their people carried Stenmun and Blayce’s bodies out of the keep. Joren scowled, but as he noted that some of the villagers relaxed at the sight, he realized why they likely did it. Joren used the spear Neal had provided as a walking stick and limped sharply over to Dom who was ordering people about, arranging for the pyre for their people.

Dom eyed him and his leg, “Did Mother Neal allow you out of bed, or are you defying your healer’s instructions?”

“I’m allowed to stand on the leg just as long as I use the spear for support. To be fair, I probably wouldn’t be standing anyway if I wasn’t,” Joren countered. “What are our losses?”

“We lost a total of seven, plus some of the animals. When you think about it. It’s clear the gods were on our side for this one. We almost lost Gil, it took both Neal and Mistress Rosewood to save him. She apparently knew a few tricks that Neal didn’t. We’ll have to tie the poor man to his horse to keep him on it, but he should pull through. Saefas is also in rather rough shape. Thankfully, enough of our people are in decent enough shape that if we do encounter any patrols heading south, we should be able to manage handling them,” Dom explained. He glanced at Joren’s face. “I understand they couldn’t save the eye?”

“According to Tobe, there wasn’t an eye to save. The blow the hit my face must have torn it out without my realizing it. I was too far gone into battle fever to realize it. I’ve always had a distorted perception of pain, didn’t feel it as much as I should have,” Joren shrugged, giving the same lie to Dom that he did to Tobe. He had been aware that the eye was gone with the pain he had felt. He had just pushed it aside in favor of concern for his wife. “It’s not like I was expecting much combat after this anyway.”

Dom snorted at that, “No, and no one would allow you to join in either now.”

Joren went over to Mistress Rosewood where she worked to apply further healing to Gil. He didn’t dare kneel at the present, instead he just asked her, “How is he doing?”

“He should survive, if the journey isn’t too rough and we don’t have to pull him off his horse repeatedly as we did due to the Scanran patrols while heading north,” She remarked, her tone stiff. She looked uncertain as she eyed him.

Joren nodded, “Well, let’s pray the gods favor us with an easy journey south.”

Mistress Rosewood hesitated before speaking again, “My Lord, I would have saved the eye if it were possible. I hope you know that. However, that, along with the scars… there is only so much two healers can do when we are dealing with this many injured.” She looked like she was expecting Joren to lash out at her even as she glanced at were his wife laid, still asleep.

“I know that, Mistress Rosewood. I don’t expect miracles and I knew going into this battle that it was unlikely any of us would come out unscathed,” Joren pointed out as his glanced up at the sky, noticing there were Stormwings gathering on the ramparts. He knew they wouldn’t risk approaching while they were still there, but they likely hoped they would at least leave the Scanran dead for them. 

“I see, that’s… very logical of you, my lord,” Mistress Rosewood observed uncomfortably. “I should go find someone to help me secure this one.”

Joren nodded and hobbled back over to his wife who he noticed was now waking. He kept his distance while she spoke with Tobe and then got a bit of a tongue lashing from Neal over the care for her shoulder wound. Joren stood silently as she forced herself to get up and assess the damage. He watched her expression tighten as she saw those who were finishing up preparing the pyre. She then allowed Fanche and Gydo help her up as they spoke for a bit before she came over to him.

She glanced at his bandaged face and scowled, “Were they able to repair your eye at least?” She asked in concern.

Joren shook his head, “Neal said it was torn out in the initial blow. There was nothing there to fix. At least you don’t have to worry about women throwing themselves at me anymore. Not that I was interested in them before.”

Kel barked a harsh laugh at that, “Oh, didn’t you hear Owen on the road, ladies like men with scars. It makes them look dangerous. They’ll likely be worse now that your face isn’t prettier than theirs is. Men with scars are heroic, were as a woman with scars is just damaged.” She finished almost bitterly.

Joren limped to her and kissed her on her chapped lips, “I’d take a heroic, beautiful wife with a few scars any day over a lily soft court lady who doesn’t even know how to hold a spear, never mind a glaive.”

She gave him a weak chuckle before shaking her head, “You’re mad. At least you have a dashing scar to show for it.”

Joren shook his head and watched his wife as she hobbled about a bit, assessing things, comforting one of the two girls who had stayed to fight, and then gathered everyone around to hear her next orders, “We need to get out of here sooner rather than later. I want the torch put to the keep. Make sure the level where Blayce kept his workroom and that second hidden room burns in particular. Take nothing out of there. I mean nothing.” She gave that order sharply, making it clear that she meant that order in its full weight.

“The keep burning will be a torch for the countryside. The quicker we go, the safer we’ll be,” Kel finished. Tobe brought Peachblossom and Bloodborne round for Kel and Joren. It took Dom and Zerhalm’s assistance to get the two of them into the saddle. Joren winced hard as the position pulled his still partially injured leg uncomfortably. 

They lingered just long enough to make the funeral prayers for their fallen and most of them mounted up while the last few went up into the keep and set first the third floor, then the second and first floors alight. The fire wasn’t likely to be put out until the castle ran out of fuel. There wasn’t anyone close enough to do so. The remainder of their group mounted up as the heat of the keep ablaze pushed them more towards the gates. Kel was asked what to do with the Scanran dead and to Joren’s surprise, she ordered them to be left for the Stormwings. He didn’t counter it as he would have no valid arguments. The Stormwings’ purpose was to deter war with their vile treatment of the dead, according to Daine. This was as good a sign of Tortall’s opinion of death magic as there could be.

Instead, he merely followed her away from the castle Rathhausk at the front of the train of adults and children. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kyprioth slumped against his sister Shakith with an incredulous look on his face at her. He had hung around to watch the final results of her plan. He shook his head in disgust, “You made me go through all that effort to redeem the boy for that? A single hidden room? Why was the blasted thing so important that you called in the boon I owed you for the prophesy about the Copper Isles all that time ago?”

Shakith raised an eyebrow at him before waving her hand over the mirror that they had watched the events unfolding from, “This would have occurred in twenty-three years from now. Technically, it will still occur, however the outcome would be vastly different.”

Kyprioth watched as a shifty looking group of mages rode up to the now overgrown castle. They picked their way through the courtyard riddled with bones. Their expressions were elated for a group that was investigating a ruin. They wound their way around the soot coated keep, searching for something, though mostly they just found soot, dirt, and a few plants growing inside the worn and crumbling keep. Still, they made their way up the heat cracked stone stairs to finally the third floor. 

Where Joren had pulled the torch scone before, they too pulled it, revealing the undamaged room full of papers and books. The mages all acquired evil grins as the dug into the workings of a necromancer, “This is what they would have found if Joren of Stone Mountain were not there to find that room. This is what they will now find.” 

She waved her hand again and the scene replayed. Only this time, when they reached the final floor, it was to find the hidden room already open, nothing left in it excepting piles of ashes. The shifty group of mages turned on each other immediately and got into a volatile fight. Shakith waved her hand over the mirror again, allowing the visions of potential futures to dissipate. 

“How probable was that event to occur?” Kyprioth asked, disgust in his voice. All gods excepting Uusoae distained death magic.

“There was a greater chance of that occurring after Lady Keladry’s success than she had of succeeding were it not for Joren of Stone Mountain’s presence,” Shakith remarked firmly. “It was a near certainty.”

Kyprioth sighed, “And there was no one else that we could have used to find the room that would have taken less work than Joren of Stone Mountain? He was stubborn for a while. If it weren’t for a promise of death if he didn’t change, he never would have. Granted, he did turn out rather decent for the effort.”

“No. No one else would have even thought to look for the room or known what to look for without a far greater amount of effort. His was the most straight forward means of getting the job done,” Shakith responded promptly. “Now, I believe you have your islands to reclaim, do you not?”

Kyprioth huffed at his sister’s dismissal, but she was right, and his debt to her was settled, which worked out for him as well. He left to go back to eying out his choice for acting as his agent in the isles and working out his plan to get her there. It would be even more work than it had been to maneuver Stone Mountain to his followers’ Trebond keep. Still it didn’t stop him from grumbling to himself about how there had been a whole squad of thieves avalible that he could have just educated about hidden rooms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took them five days to get back to the Vassa River, though the gods had to have been favoring them because they didn’t encounter any patrols during the trip south. They still moved cautiously, having to take into consideration both their injured and the children and villagers who couldn’t ride for as long as the warriors. 

The smugglers on this side were rather put out to be ferrying so many over the river for ‘free’ as they complained. Joren quieted their complaints by passing over a hefty sum of coins from the pouch that he had kept quiet about until then. Dom gave him a sour look but didn’t comment. It took a long while to get everyone across, and Joren, Kel, Neal, and Owen were the last ones to cross. Joren noticed his wife was asleep as soon as they cast off, a luxury he couldn’t manage given his hatred of being on boats. 

He spotted Lord Wyldon, Lord Raoul, and Duke Baird waiting on the other side along with their friends who had brought the adult refugees back safely as they approached the Tortall shore, but didn’t comment, he merely nudged his wife awake. As soon as they were off the flat-bottomed boat, Kel, Neal and Owen all behaved like they were facing their execution. Joren rolled his one eye as they knelt and bowed their heads in submission. 

“Sargent Domitan, tell me these children aren’t the result of your squad’s Scanran frolics,” Raoul teased cheerfully as Joren braced himself upright on Bloodborne. The riding had been as hard on his leg as Neal had promised him and Joren hoped that Lord Wyldon had thought to bring wagons for the injured and children.

“Well, sir, my men helped,” Dom joked right back, he was clearly messing around and Joren smiled at the knowledge that their friend had been telling the truth about Lord Raoul giving them the orders to assist Kel and him. 

“You missed a tidy fight,” Raoul told Dom. “Smashed one of King Maggot’s little armies to bits. Come along and I’ll tell you about it.”

Meanwhile Duke Baird was gathering up all the children and the civilian adults to tend to them, to Joren’s relief. He looked Lord Wyldon in the eye firmly even as Kel and their two friends kept her head bowed. They were now left alone with just Wyldon and their friends who had brought back the adult refugees. Owen was the first to break the silence, “My lord, I’m sorry, but I got Happy killed. I didn’t mean to… he fought as hard as any knight… but he got killed anyway, and I never wanted that.”

“Is that all you have to say to me, that your horse is dead?” Joren noted that Wyldon’s tone was the same one he had used when dealing with pages who had gotten into trouble for one reason or another.

“No, my lord. I disobeyed you. I betrayed you. And I’d do it again, under the circumstances, not meaning any disrespect, sir. But I miss Happy,” Owen’s contrition was the kind that Joren had to force himself to not laugh at the statement. He knew they were on thin ice and didn’t want to make it seem like he didn’t know it, though he wasn’t lowering himself to kneeling for Wyldon. They were equals in rank and Joren wasn’t under the man’s command, never mind that his leg wouldn’t allow it.

“And you, Sir Nealan, have you any comments?” Lord Wyldon inquired, his voice losing its hardness. 

“No, my lord,” Neal replied, knowing for once to keep his mouth shut.

“I believe, Owen, that you are familiar with my dislike of needless dramatics,” Wyldon’s tone had turned sardonic now. “I am not about to declare you a traitor because the mount I gave you was killed in battle. He did what he was trained to do. I am sad for the loss of the horse. He was one of the best I’ve raised, but I would be sorrier still for the loss of a squire in whom I can take pride.”

Joren did smile at that while Kel, Owen, and Neal spoke in unison, “Sir?” Their heads snapping up to look at their former training master.

Wyldon looked at all of them, even Joren, who was leaning heavily on his horse now due to his leg’s increasing ache, before focusing on Kel, “One of the hardest lessons for any commander is this: It is a very bad idea to issue an order one knows will not be obeyed. Lady Knight, had my mind not been on other things, I would have known better than to forbid you to rescue your people. I had placed them under your care, knowing you would protect them with every skill at your disposal. I cannot now say I didn’t want you to take your responsibility too seriously. The same applies to Sir Nealan and to Sir Merric, who were also charged with their well-being. Furthermore, King Jonathan, when informed of Lord Stone Mountain’s actions in following his wife to Scanra explained that his orders were strictly to collect refugees from the danger zone and not to challenge anyone to single combat. Therefore, unless he challenged someone to single combat, even he can’t be punished. If I do not punish you or your husband, then I cannot in fairness punish those who aided you.” Wyldon finished, his expression carefully blank, though Joren suspected that their little excursion to Scanra had definitely made the older lord proud. 

Kel looked to her friends behind Lord Wyldon who looked sheepish but shrugged, as if to say they weren’t going to argue. Kel looked about to protest, but Joren’s leg buckled just then and she was distracted by it enough that she didn’t argue further. Wyldon ordered Neal and Owen to see Joren over to Duke Baird who might be able to further help his leg. He also informed them that he wanted a private word with Kel. Owen hesitated, asking to make sure Wyldon wasn’t about the yell at her. Wyldon took some issue to the question but Owen took the hint as Joren leaned heavier against him and with Wyldon’s assurance that he wouldn’t yell at Kel they left. 

Joren shortly found himself settled in a wagon while Duke Baird examined his leg before shaking his head, “I can relieve the pain for now, but I’m afraid Neal and Mistress Rosewood have done all the can for the leg. I doubt it will be this painful normally once it’s fully healed, but with all the riding you’ve had to do it certainly hasn’t helped it heal. I hope you are planning on riding in the wagons on your way south, Lord Joren?”

Joren nodded in agreement, “Yes, Your Grace. Given the pain of the last five days, I doubt I will relish riding for a long while.”

“I doubt it will be pleasant for quite an extensive amount of time,” Duke Baird agreed. “Now, as for your eye, I’m sorry, but not even I can repair a lost eye. I’ve heard of a mage that Master Numair spoke of, and fought during the Immortals War, that replaced his eye with a ruby and used complex magic to be able to see through it, but as you have no magic I doubt it would work, even if I knew how to lay the necessary spells for it.”

Joren shook his head and joked, “Never mind how tacky it would look.”

Duke Baird chuckled, “It’s good to see you have a sense of humor about this. King Jonathan wasn’t happy when he learnt of your actions.”

“No, I imagine he wasn’t. Hopefully, he will look at the bright side and be happy that my wife did away with a dangerous mage that was wreaking havoc on our borders,” Joren pointed out.

“You know he won’t let you leave Corus again while this war continues, right?” Duke Baird scolded firmly.

“I figured that’s how things would play out. Hopefully, with those blasted monstrosities dealt with, it won’t last much longer,” Joren responded grimly.

“From your mouth to the gods’ ears, my boy,” Duke Baird muttered as he allowed a little more magic to flow into Joren’s leg. “Now, stay off the leg for the next few hours, though I doubt you’ll be able to support your weight on it for the rest of the day.” 

Joren nodded in understanding as Kel and Wyldon joined them. Wyldon eyed Joren, “How bad is the leg… and the eye, I suppose?”

“The eye is gone, thanks to an unlucky cut from a Scanran and according to the three healers that have seen to it so far, I will be acquiring a cane when I return to Corus,” Joren answered bluntly.

Wyldon winced at the information, “I see. Well, it isn’t like King Jonathan was going to allow you near combat again anyway.”

“Very true, and I already have a stunning wife who is unlikely to turn to dislike of me for being a cripple,” Joren added earning a scowl from Wyldon while Kel rolled her eyes at her husband. “I’m looking on the positive side. Please do not act like I need pity. I knew the fight would be hard won and there was little chance of walking away unscathed. Yes, the price was high, but it’s far lower than it could have been.”

Wyldon sighed and then nodded in agreement, “And with any luck, you and your wife’s actions will have cut King Maggur off at the knees. We had best get a move on if we want to reach Mastiff before dark. Lady Knight, you’re likely in no better shape to ride than your husband, so you can share a wagon with him. I hear they’re well sprung, as they were purchased by Lord Joren himself.”

Joren chuckled, “I’ll be bringing a lot of children south. I wanted to be able to make a good pace. I’m glad that it will ease my suffer as well.” Kel climbed into the wagon, more to be next to him, Joren suspected, than because she truly needed to ride in a wagon rather than on a horse. 

A few more children and some of the Scanran villagers joined them in the wagon while Bloodborne and Peachblossom were secured on a lead line by Tobe who then secured the line to the saddle horn of Hoshi, who he was clearly planning on riding back to Mastiff. Kel offered the boy a smile as they started to move.


	23. Repercussions and Conclusions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I didn't realize how ridiculously long this chapter was when posting it on FanFiction originally, but its definitely the longest, even as the conclusion.

The ride from the Vassa to Mastiff wasn’t bad. At least, not in terms of comparing it to riding horseback the previous five days. Still, he was grateful when they finally reached the fort. It was clear that there had been recent fighting there, but there wasn’t any longer. Joren waited until everyone else was out of the wagon before attempting to stand and putting pressure on his weak leg. He managed to do so, with Kel’s assistance, but getting out from the wagon was a tricking bit of work. Once down, he was immediately handed a crutch by one of the nearby soldiers. 

Joren nodded in thanks and supported his weight on that before limping behind the others as they headed for the room where Lord Wyldon had taken his meals with them previously. As soon as they reached the table, Joren immediately took a seat and Wyldon gave him a raised eyebrow before offering seats to everyone else. Once they were all seated, Duke Baird went to a mirror and activated a spell which brought King Jonathan into view. 

Joren winced and hoped that matters would be kept to business for now. He knew that he would be receiving what would amount to a tongue lashing when he got back to Corus, but he would rather it didn’t occur with an audience. Thankfully, instead, the king just demanded an overall report of the ‘results’ of their ‘mission’. Joren let his wife give most of the details of the events as they unfolded, though King Jonathan occasionally would interrupt to ask Joren or another person a question about this or that matter. By the end of the report, it was rather clear that Jonathan wasn’t as angry as he could have been. 

He merely ordered Joren to give the refugees a few days to rest before transporting them back to Corus, sans the ones who would be escorted by his men-at-arms to Stone Mountain. It was late when they finished, but Lord Wyldon sent for some food which everyone only half-heartedly ate, too tired to have much of an appetite. When they finished with eating what they could force down, everyone headed immediately to bed. Joren and Kel returning to the room they had been assigned prior to their rescue mission. Two baths were thankfully waiting for them, which the pair immediately stripped down and climbed into to clean the dirt of the road and fight off. 

When they were finally clean, Joren skirted around the destroyed clothing on the floor. He just dried himself off, dug a clean loincloth from his travel bags that had been left in the room in their prior haste and then crawled into bed, his leg aching less for the long soak in hot water. Kel joined him shortly after and they were both asleep before they knew it.

Over the next few days, there was a fair amount of chaos. There was the process of sorting out which refugees to take south, mainly families and orphans still. Then, they needed to sort out how much of the supplies Joren had brought north would be needed for their journey back. Wyldon was indifferent to the fact that Joren had brought supplies for his wife, but annoyed that he had found two skilled mages that refused to answer to anyone but the lady knight. Joren finally managed to point out that the two mages weren’t being employed by the Crown and thus Wyldon’s people couldn’t be ordering them about. They were strictly employed by Stone Mountain. Wyldon wasn’t happy about it but recognized that Kel did need all the help she could get reestablishing the necessary refugee camp. 

Joren and Kel got precious few moments together other than in their bed at night, but they made the most of the time they had. On the day of Joren’s departure with a good number of the refugees, Kel took the time bid everyone farewell and Joren was approached by Fanche who was one of those who were staying, given that she was a single woman.

“You know, when I first arrived at Haven, I made a rather crude comment that had me being laughed at by Sargent Dom’s squad. When Lady Kel informed me that she was already married, I figured that you couldn’t be much of a looker to have settled for a female knight who was as burly as Lady Kel. I thought Sargent Dom and his men were having me on when they tried describing your appearances later,” Fanche was smiling now.

“Yes, well, I’m assuming they used the term ‘prettier than most court ladies’,” Joren sighed, well aware of how he was described behind his back, even if most wouldn’t say it to his face.

Fanche chuckled, “Something like that. Once I got to know Lady Kel, I was less certain of your appearance and more wondered if she had been taken in by a pretty face. I have to admit, you aren’t what I was expecting.”

Joren smiled crookedly, “No, I imagine not. I’m not nearly good enough for Kel. I have no idea why she puts up with me.” Joren joked.

Fanche shook her head, “Actually, I was thinking the gods had to have worked hard to make such an odd pair. A hardworking, noble-hearted knight and a dandy lord who was only fairly decent at sword work.”

Joren rolled his eye before shrugging, “I doubt many will be calling me a dandy going forward, thankfully. The one good thing about this injury is that I’m unlikely to be called ‘pretty’ again.” He gestured to the fresh scar on his face along with his missing eye.

Fanche shrugged, “Yes, well, you take care of our people. I expect that come peacetime, Saefas and I will be following Lady Kel back to Stone Mountain to ensure we can keep you in line for her.”

Joren chuckled, “More like you just don’t want to get saddled with some weak lordling that is as arrogant as Maggur is and only a tenth his brains.”

Fanche shrugged as Kel joined them. Kel gave him a raised eyebrow but Joren just smirked and pulled her in for a hard kiss that earned them a few wolf whistles. Then, Kel helped Joren up into the front of the lead wagon and Joren gave a signal to the Captain from First Company to move out. Between the horses that had been gained on the rescue mission and the wagons Joren had brought north, everyone was easily accommodated, and they made relatively good time going south, given that he had around 250 refugees, many of whom were children.

While the journey north took just two weeks, going south took three, given the necessity of stops to rest the refugees who couldn’t handle riding for long periods and the general slower pace caused by the wagons. Joren’s men-at-arms and twenty-six refugees, six orphans among them, split off four days into their journey to head for Stone Mountain. Joren gave Captain Wood strict orders to not linger any more than necessary, which the man took seriously, given that he was already forming a fatherly bond with two of the orphans that were present. 

When they reached Corus, they were met by a courier from the king informing Joren that he was to bring the refugees around to where the Riders recruit ponies were kept as it was presently empty, given the Riders’ recruits were currently on their summer training camp. Joren followed the orders and they then settled the refugees themselves in the barracks for the Riders recruits. It was a tight fit, but one they managed.

Joren sighed as he watched palace servants direct the refugees into the barracks before he collected Bloodborne and rode him over to the stables for the nobles in residence. A groomsman helped Joren dismount as he had decided it would be too much of a spectacle if he was seen in a wagon going into the palace grounds three weeks after his injury. Joren winced but managed to settle his weight on his leg long enough to work the makeshift cane, one he had made from a large branch on their way south having little else to do in the wagon during his ride south, from his saddle. 

It was rough looking but was far less dramatic than the crutch he’d been given at Mastiff. Joren then paid the stable hand a few coins to give Bloodborne a good brushing down and some extra oats. The man was happy for the extra money and given that he didn’t have much work, he agreed readily enough. Joren slung his saddle bags over his shoulder and limped his way into the palace and to his rooms there. He immediately washed the worst of the dirt from the road and swiftly changed into something more presentable before he sought out the king. 

There was little Joren could do about the bandage around his head though. He would need to acquire an eyepatch or three for the future. Ones that were appropriate for various occasions, though none would be gaudy. Once he was somewhat presentable, Joren limped his way to locate the king. As it was mid-afternoon, he guessed the monarch would be in his private study, working on this or that of paperwork. He was surprised, when on his way to find the king, one of the king’s personal servants located Joren. Joren realized that the king was likely impatient. It was fortunate that the servant found him as he was redirected to one of the smaller meeting rooms that the king had. 

Inside, King Jonathan, Queen Thayet, Sir Gareth the Younger, Princess Shinkokami, and his mother awaited. Joren barely held back his wince at the line-up. He recognized the concerned expression of his mother as she saw his face and the cane, though she didn’t say anything. Joren leaned heavily on his cane as he received assessing looks from the rest.

“Forgive me, your majesty, I would have cleaned up a bit more if I realized this was going to be a formal audience,” Joren apologized stiffly with as good a bow he could manage given his reliance on a cane.

“It’s not,” Jonathan stated with a sigh. “We needed to discuss a few things with you before any formal audience. Also, I would have given you time to at least get an eyepatch. Take a seat.”

Joren winced at the reminder as his mother gasped, “No!” He sat as his mother covered her mouth in horror at the idea of a lost eye.

“Lord Joren of Stone Mountain, I believe I gave you rather specific orders when you went north to collect refugees, did I not?” King Jonathan began.

Joren nodded sharply, “You did your majesty.”

“I remember specifically discussing the fact that I would rather you didn’t come back seriously injured, most specifically with head trauma, from being involved in an unnecessary fight. Did I recall that conversation incorrectly?” The king asked sharply while gesturing to Joren’s bandaged head.

Joren held back this wince, and refused to look away, “No, you recall it correctly, your majesty.”

Jonathan nodded, “Fortunately for you, I doubt anyone can call your excursion north of our border with Scanra unnecessary, especially given the results of said excursion.”

Joren’s eye widened at this. He was expecting a bit of a tongue lashing, not the king acknowledging that he had done what was necessary. Sir Gareth rolled his eyes, “Oh, don’t be so shocked. We both know that Jon and I crossed into Tusaine against his father’s explicate orders just to rescue Alanna. We didn’t have a tenth the excuse you and your wife had for going after Stenmun and the refugees.”

“Never mind the fact that in doing so, you rid the world of what could almost be considered a monster worse than even Ozorne. The question now is how we present it to the public,” Queen Thayet stated. “We can’t very well allow all the credit for your wife’s actions to be attributed to you, however, here you are, looking all injured and heroic while she’s still on the border guarding the remaining refugees.”

Joren nodded in understanding while King Jonathan, “Likewise, we can hardly expect the refugees to lie to their new overlords about your presence during the rescue. Thus, we are in a bit of a conundrum.”

Joren eyed them both for a moment, “Why not just release the truth. My wife killed Stenmun and Blayce. I was injured in the fighting. However, it was my wife’s command as she was the one with a command position. I merely went along because I have been strictly charged by the king to bring the refugees safely south.”

Sir Gareth shook his head, “The conservatives will either label you a coward hiding behind your wife’s skirts or claim you are only saying such because the King ordered you to. They won’t believe it.”

“They don’t have to. The people, the commoners will. Let’s be honest, that’s what you truly need. You need the commoners to believe it and they will. There’s something I held back from you, your majesty. Keladry… she didn’t just go haring off after the refugees because it was her responsibility. She was charged with the task… by the Chamber of Ordeal,” Joren held up his hand when the Sir Gareth looked angry and about the interrupt. “She didn’t break the rules about speaking of her Ordeal as what she was charged with wasn’t a part of the Ordeal itself. She went into the Chamber a second time, and it gave her permission to speak of this. And before you question of whether my wife made this up as a potential defense if she did get in trouble… the Chamber made its presence known twice. 

“Once in the mutual presence of myself, Sir Nealan, and Squire Owen of Jesslaw, as well as the squad under the command of Sargent Domitan of Masbolle, my squads of men-at-arms, and the two squads of soldiers that accompanied us, through a young seer girl that was in the village outside of the castle where Blayce was hidden away. The second time, it manifested itself physically in a door in the keep of that same castle after Kel killed Blayce. It also tormented my wife for months with nightmares of Blayce,” Joren’s expression was grim. “This means that the elemental that is the Chamber of Ordeal isn’t restricted to the Chapel of Ordeal or even just to the palace as I know a great many people believe.”

Sir Gareth paled slightly at this, any potential anger dissipating with that information, “Well, that’s an unsettling thought. Though, I suppose we saw an example of that to a lesser extent when Vinson of Genlith failed his Ordeal. It does make you wonder if those others who failed died at the hands of the Chamber as well, at a much later point, or were perhaps driven insane by it.”

“And it makes you wonder if the Chamber has set tasks before others at the end of their Ordeals as well. I know Alanna acted in a particularly reckless manner just after her Ordeal. She almost immediately broke into Duke Roger’s rooms and then publicly confronted him about his own evil magic in front of the entire court,” King Jonathan grimaced at the thought. 

Thayet cringed as well, “Perhaps we could speak to it? If it has presented itself to Lord Joren, maybe he can persuade it to talk to us?”

Sir Gareth shook his head, “I dislike the idea of sending someone into the Chamber unnecessarily. While I understand that intrinsically, it is there to help our country by ensuring that it has kings and knights capable of doing their duties, the thing is still extremely dangerous.”

Joren sighed, “I will do it, your majesty. Sir Gareth, while I understand your concerns, I’m fairly certain that I won’t have to enter the chamber itself. If I did, however, it wouldn’t be like my ordeal. Kel has entered it a second time, to converse with it and to ensure she knew the full extent of the mission. While I wouldn’t recommend pestering the elemental over every little topic of discussion or concern, I genuinely believe that the Chamber’s purpose is to ensure the long-term safety and survival of our country.”

King Jonathan seemed to consider this for a moment before nodding, “If you’re willing, I would like to get it over with sooner rather than later. Now that you’re back, there will be a massive clamoring for your attention. This whole business with doing away with Blayce Younger had admittedly leaked a bit and the conservatives seem to be having a bit of a mental crisis over their women-shouldn’t-be-warriors stance due to your wife’s successes.”

Joren snorted, “That’s hardly surprising. We can likely go now before we are buried under a pile of conservatives trying to make heads or tails of the whole thing. The rest of you should probably come as witnesses as well.” He reached for his cane and used it to stand again with a grimace.

“Really, I understand the healers not being able to do anything for your eye, Joren, but could they really do nothing more to ease your pain with your leg injury?” Joren’s mother asked as she came to his other side and slid her arm into his, in part to assist him in stabilizing himself. He still hadn’t become accustomed to sitting and standing with one eye and in addition to his leg’s pain he was experiencing slight dizziness whenever he changed positions.

“The tendon was severed in the lower leg and then I moved about on it quite a bit before the healers could look at it, Mother. The healers truly did the best they could have given the time avalible. Duke Baird himself examined my leg and added to it,” Joren defended as he regained his center of balance and they followed the others from the room. 

Lady Verene shook her head, “Well did Duke Baird say how long it would take for you to recover?”

Joren finally did wince at this as they moved along the halls of the palace toward the Chapel of Ordeal, “Mother… I… I’ll never truly recover from this injury, any more than I will from losing my eye. The damage… I’ll need a cane for virtually the rest of my life.”

His mother gasped once again before shaking her head, “Well… surely there’s something that can be done? Surely you won’t have to be… in so much constant pain?”

Joren sighed and shook his head, “It wouldn’t be so much the pain, that should mostly fade with time. It’s the damage to my tendon that has severely and rather permanently reduced the strength of my leg, Mother.”

“Oh… I… I see. Well, you received the injury in a noble and just battle in which you were defending the innocents you were charged to protect by the crown. I suppose that such a manner of sustained injury is far more dignified for a man than say being injured in a similar manner due to a reckless horse riding accident or a duel of honor because of some heinous breach of propriety,” Lady Verene’s words were a bit ridiculous, however, Joren was just relieved that his mother wasn’t making a bigger fuss over his physical state.

“Mother, duels are hardly things that still occur in Tortall. Besides, if I had been fighting one on one and not five on one, I guarantee you that I would not have sustained these injuries,” Joren huffed as they reached the Chapel and entered it. Lady Verene kept her distance from the Chamber, relinquishing her grip on his arm as Joren limped to the front of the chapel where the Chamber was with the others. The King and Queen flanked him with Sir Gareth just to the King’s left. 

Joren opened his mouth to speak when the Chamber’s Door swung open wide and that same odd face appeared on the inside of it that Joren had seen when he was in Blayce’s castle,’“Are you going to be as persistent in your visits with me now as your wife was during her Squire years, Lord Joren?’

The others flinched, having never heard the voice of the Chamber that seemed to almost resonate in their heads rather than be spoken aloud. Joren sighed, “I certainly hope not. We have only come here to speak with you because I informed King Jonathan of the… mission you assigned my wife and he wished to know if this was a frequent occurrence or perhaps a once in a generation type of situation.”

The Chamber sighed in response, ‘I would hardly describe it as frequent as even once in a generation. One of my tasks as an Elemental is to ensure that the more perverse natures of magic are not allowed to persist and endanger this country that the gods gifted me to. Prior to Keladry of Stone Mountain, who I assigned a more direct task to only because such an event of her having the opportunity to deal with Blayce Younger was some duration away, I have only provided guidance to six others in the time I have held this position. The most recent being Lady Alanna who was the only one capable of freeing herself from the shroud of darkness that Duke Roger had lain over the Tortall royal family and those closest to them. Before that there were tasks I assigned before the long duration in which females were not permitted to enter me for the Ordeal to become knights. I have only ever assigned tasks to females as they are more skilled at dealing with these problems.’

“So, it is unlikely there will be any more… missions from you to my knights in the near future?” Jonathan spoke this time, clearly relaxing a bit.

‘My perception of time and even borders are not as mortals are. There is also the factor that the future is fluid and heavily dependent on the actions of mortals and immortals alike. I can say that I currently perceive no instance of possibility of it being necessary for me to instruct another mortal in a task for the current duration of your lifetime, however, such things can change rather rapidly,’ The Chamber’s response was unhelpful at best, causing Jonathan to groan. 

“If, in the future, there were such a need, would you be willing to inform me or my descendants that a task has been assigned to a certain new knight?” Jonathan asked hopefully.  
‘I will not. Twice the greatest threat to the fabric of all that is as it should be were presented by members of the royal family. One of them was your very cousin. If a task must be assigned, I will assign it in a manner I find befitting and I will not enable potential interference from others by informing them of the task. The only reason I permitted the Protector of the Small to speak of her task to others was because some, such as Joren of Stone Mountain, were at least partially aware already due to her sent dreams and others would become aware during her journey. I knew these would not impede and only help her and thus, it did not matter if she informed them. However, that was the one instance where I have permitted such and it is unlikely I would do so again. Unlike the others I was required to assign tasks to, the Protector of the Small has produced a rather peculiar tendency to incite extreme loyalty to her that I doubt will manifest again in the near future. Now, if that is all…’ The Chamber didn’t wait for a response. It merely snapped its door shut in a much more abrupt manner than it normally moved.

“Well, that went better than I anticipated,” Sir Gareth observed in an almost chipper voice.

Joren turned to the King’s Prime Minister, “The Chamber just, quite literally, slammed it’s door in our faces, and you call that going well?” He raised his one visible eyebrow at the man.

“As no one was sent horrible visions nor were we forced to actually enter the thing and no one died, yes, I would say it went rather well. Honestly, we knew it was a long shot at best and this could have gone far worse than it did,” Sir Gareth eyed the Chamber with ill ease.

“Right, well, with that out of the way, perhaps we can allow Lord Joren to rest and recover for a bit before the evening meal. Joren, I’ve already arranged for craftsmen to arrange for a suitable eyepatch for you as well as a cane so that you won’t be looking quite so… dramatic. They will be arriving mid-afternoon at your rooms in the palace to ensure they are an appropriate fit for you,” Jonathan explained. “I suggest you clean up more thoroughly and get some rest in a decent bed before then.”

Joren gave the King a tight smile and a nod, “Of course, your majesty. Thank you.” 

Before he could turn and leave though, the King spoke again, “Oh, and one more thing. We will be holding a feast to honor you and your wife’s deeds in a week’s time. I suggest you prepare for that as well.”

Joren winced at this. He knew that over the next week he would be the focus of a lot of attention due to the recent events and his injuries, but apparently the King’s ultimate punishment was going to put him on display as an unintended war hero. Worse, without Kel there to act as a buffer there was a risk of at least a few women wanting to thank him in a less than appropriate manner given he both wasn’t interested and was married. He could only hope that he could use his mother as a form of shield. It was unlikely that even the most wonton women would proposition him in front of his mother. Or perhaps the scarring would be enough to deter them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Over the next month Joren found his injuries wore on him more than he had anticipated. At the feast a week after his arrival back in Corus, Joren felt a good deal of relief that he had a very valid excuse not to dance with anyone that no one could refute, his leg was simply too weak to support him without a cane and it was still rather painful for him to so much as stand for long periods, never mind walking or riding. Dancing was completely out of the question for him. Joren’s mother was unhappy about his insistence of residing in the palace rather than their town house, but Joren had explained that it would put too much strain on his leg traversing back and forth between the townhouse and the palace which would delay his leg’s healing as best it could.

He did have another relief for the feast in addition to not being able to dance, both his sisters were in attendance with their husbands and the two of them combined with his mother provided him with an impenetrable barrier from those who’d had a tendency to imply they would like to share his bed before he had left for the north. 

This was countered, however, with the painful realization that he lacked any means of escape from the conservatives who grilled Joren for every detail of his ‘journey’ north of the border. After a short while, however, Princess Shinkokami and Lady Yukimi took pity on Joren and insisted he attend to them, thus acting as a peculiar repellant for the stuffiest conservatives that didn’t like the foreign princess. Cleon had attended as well, but it was clear he was distracted with his pregnant wife. He was being sent north now that his lands were secure. Joren had cringed at this, but they needed every good fighter on the border. Even with the killing devices gone, it would still be a hard-fought war.

After the feast, however, Joren found himself buried in work that King Jonathan had held in wait for his return. Joren swiftly realized there would be no lecture or verbal whipping from the king. His punishment would be the perpetual reminder that the King fully intended him to be his political tool and with his injuries, it was hardly as if Joren had much choice in the matter anymore. 

However, he found that apparently reading for prolonged periods with a single eye was inducing headaches and the healers informed him there was little that could be done except taking breaks and prescribed a nasty tasting tea for him to drink if the headaches got bad. He was assured that the headaches would pass once his body had adjusted to the change. Likewise, there was little that could be done to help strengthen Joren’s leg and the random painful spasms that occurred besides a rather sharp smelling balm that Joren was ordered to rub into his calf whenever the spasms occurred, when he woke each morning, and before bed. 

Another thing that swiftly became apparent was that Joren was now, oddly, seen as some sort of challenge for the ladies of court who wanted a little amusement. As a result, Joren made a point of ensuring his manservant knew that he was absolutely not to allow any women besides his mother or sisters into his private rooms. In addition to this, Joren hired an assistant to help him with the more tedious research work. He intentionally instructed the assistant not to allow anyone into his personal office that wasn’t a member of his family, the royal family, or was Sir Gareth without having an appointment or at least speaking with him first. 

King Jonathan had raised an eyebrow at this the first time he had seen Joren’s assistant and Joren had sighed, “Lady Clarise of Pearlmouth was waiting in my office for me last Wednesday when I arrived. I only narrowly avoided there being an issue because Sir Gareth was with me when we arrived. She was… well she pretended to be lost, but it’s difficult to believe given that my office door was locked the night before by myself and was locked when we arrived. I do not want to risk even one of those harpies even pretending to have an illicit relationship with me. Kel trusts me and knows I would never have an affair, but I refuse to have her come home to be badgered with rumors of my having a non-existent affair whilst she was away at war. Besides, it’s better to nip these things in the bud before the ladies get truly bold. I’m married and happily so. I will not allow bored court ladies looking for a bit of excitement to cause tension in my marriage.”

Jon nodded approvingly, “That is a very wise decision, Joren. I know of more than a few noblemen who failed to establish their fidelity to their wives, and it caused a whole mess of tensions in their marriages. I’ll speak to Thayet about arranging that Lady Clarise gets a discreet warning about interfering with a married man who is wholly uninterested in anyone who isn’t his wife.”

Joren gave him a smile, “I appreciate that, but I’m keeping the assistant. He should help keep my headaches to a minimum for now as well. Though the tea, as gods awful as it tastes, has helped as well.”

Jonathan smirked at that but let it rest. There were no more incidents in rooms he occupied by himself. However, that didn’t stop those ladies from attempting to flirt with him for several weeks more. It was getting rather deep into the fall before the ladies realized that Shinkokami’s rather pointed remarks about her distaste for the disgraceful behavior she had witnessed occurring in her uncle’s court was directed at them. Joren was baffled at how it took that long as Shinko, Yuki, and Lady Haname noh Ajikuro all politely stated how they thought the practice of attempting to steal another woman’s husband was the height of folly was hardly subtle. 

Eventually, however, the ladies seemed to realize that Joren wasn’t interested in receiving the company of women who weren’t his wife. That didn’t stop a few of them from attempting from starting rumors that the only reason Joren had married the ‘boorish’ Keladry of Mindelan was because he clearly preferred the company of men. Thankfully, these pathetic attempts at rumors failed miserably as one of the ladies attempted to moronically share one with of these false rumors with one of Keladry’s cousins from Seabeth and Seajen. The cousin had rather publicly humiliated the lady who attempted to spread the rumor by loudly stating that the lady was only saying such a thing because she was jealous that Kel was able to secure a handsome and kind husband who was staunchly faithful to her while the lady couldn’t even secure herself a husband at all, despite having a substantial dowry. 

Joren had made a point of being especially kind to Lady Tallia of Seabeth and Seajen when he realized that he was soon avoided like the plague by the ladies who were previously hunting him. She was, in actuality Kel’s cousin by marriage, but she assured him that she considered family the highest priority and she also had been rather in awe of her cousin who had had the strength to face all those boy pages without any other girls to support her. Lady Tallia even admitted that she herself had wanted to do so, but her fear of being on her own as a girl had stopped her from doing so.

Joren’s one point of happiness in all the chaos that occurred as the months passed by, in what felt to him as an agonizing slow pace, was the letters he received from Kel and his Uncle Lionel. His uncle had written that the refugees had arrived safely and were settling in well. There was apparently a great deal of celebration held in honor of their Lord and Lady’s brave heroics in saving the refugees and particularly the newly adopted children. His uncle also sent him a rather skillfully carved wooden sculpture of Kel that one of their new residents had carved for him. 

As for Kel, she wrote that they had successfully built a new refugee camp near where Haven was. It had been named New Hope and was more of a hastily constructed, fortified town than a refugee camp, but it had the space to expand as it needed, to her relief. Joren made a point of informing her of his ‘pest problem’ as he referred to it and explained his means of holding the ladies at bay, much to his wife’s apparent amusement, based on her letters. 

As Fall closed in, Joren was forced to watch as Commander Buri resigned her position as Commander of the Queen’s Riders before she and Lady Yuki, determined to marry their loved ones, traveled north before the roads were closed in with snow. Joren sent another supply train with them as they went north. One wagon carried things that were supposed to be gifts to be given to the refugees for Midwinter, which Joren explained in the letter he sent with it. 

In the reverse, Prince Roald returned to the capital, to the great joy of Princess Shinkokami. As Joren was the only one of Prince Roald’s friends who was in the capital, he was elected through lack of option to stand as Roald’s witness at their wedding. Joren was genuinely happy for his friend, but the wedding celebrations caused him to miss Kel more than ever. 

With winter, Joren found that while the cold didn’t bother his missing eye one bit, and thankfully the headaches had finally subsided, the cold made his leg ache fiercely. Zahir, who had managed to get leave for the winter, recommended a Bazhir balm that was even sharper scented than the one the healers had given him, but it worked wonders on easing the ache in his leg. The entirety of Joren’s winter was spent taking on increasing amounts of political work, making him virtually Sir Gareth’s back up Minister. Many of the conservatives felt more comfortable with talking with Joren, despite his being a progressive, because of his conservative upbringing and more ‘reasonable’ arguments. 

Joren might have resented being placed in the middle man position, acting as the center of the balance which was Sir Gareth for the far left progressives and Sir Padraig haMinch on the far right conservatives, except that if distracted him from his missing his wife’s warmth at night and her company in general. It was ironic to Joren that he had very publicly courted and married the first woman to go through the proper process of seeking knighthood under legal circumstances in centuries, but the conservatives still felt he was the right one to ‘talk reason’ with King Jonathan about this or that law. 

Then again, it could be the very fact that Joren appeared to stand the middle ground politically that made them feel more comfortable with him than so many other staunch progressives. It wasn’t so much that Joren agreed with their positions on most matters, because he didn’t, but rather that he could present the progressive position in a manner that appealed to the conservatives that managed to make them feel that he was more reasonable than the others. Jonathan didn’t care how Joren managed to get the conservatives on board for legal changes, like the laws on inheritance and the law regarding the safety of servants, just that he did get them on board fully before the coming summer’s congress was in session. 

What little time Joren did find he had free, he found quickly snapped up by Sir Padraig. While Joren might not be able to fight anymore, he was still well able to see the flaws in the positioning of pages’ movements for both sword work and staff work. Also, Joren was still perfectly capable of shooting a bow, as he hadn’t lost his dominate eye, though only in short durations due to the leg injury. Sir Padraig used the days when they were snowed in and Joren had little work to do as days to demonstrate the uses and differences of the various types of arrows. Additionally, Princess Shinko, Lady Haname, Queen Thayet, and Lady Ilane gave lessons in using glaives to the pages who chose to take them. Joren got drawn into those as well, because, while he had never used a glaive before and certainly wouldn’t be learning to use one after all his injuries, he still knew the movements, having watched his wife practice with hers aplenty. 

The winter felt like it would never end, especially as the snows had cut off couriers from carrying letters north. The only news they got was through the birds who carried messages for Daine. Joren was thankfully privy to these, and well aware that Kel was mainly snowed in, but they had enough food to get by until spring. As soon as there were signs of spring thaw, King Jonathan sent more, newly trained soldiers north to buffer their troops. Joren sent a caravan of supplies, more food, fabric for more clothing, tools and seed for planting, anything he could think of to help the refugees. He also sent along a rather long-winded letter that had been written over the long winter, almost journal-like to his wife. 

When those who brought the wagons north returned, Joren received the first letter he had gotten from Kel in months and a pregnant and disgruntled Lady Yuki arrived with them as well. Much like Joren’s, Kel’s letter covered the length of the time they were unable to send letters and was clearly written as things occurred. Joren took an entire day to himself and read through all the pages of her letters. He got a good verity of news. General Vanget assigned Cleon to assist Kel in training the refugees during the winter. He had informed her of his impending fatherhood. Yuki had announced she was expecting, and Neal had put his foot down and demanded his wife go south with the thaw before the fighting could heat up again. It had apparently resulted in a rather remarkable row, though Joren could see the logic in Neal’s position. 

A woman certainly could hold her own in a fight if properly trained as Kel and Yuki were. That said, a woman carrying a child could not fight. The babe was an impediment that would inhibit Yuki’s capabilities. It turned her into a liability that didn’t need to exist because she wasn’t trapped in the north like the refugees. This didn’t stop Lady Yuki from sulking, but there were limitations to what could be expected. Kel also wrote that Fanche and Saefas married at mid-winter. Though Fanche wasn’t expecting yet, Kel wrote that she wouldn’t be surprised if she did eventually have a child as she was still young enough to do so without great risk. 

Throughout the entire thing, Kel wrote periodically that she missed him dearly. Joren had to assume that she likely missed him as much as he did her. However, one thing that was clear was that King Jonathan had no intention of allowing Joren to leave the capital until the war was over. Not long into the spring, Prince Roald was sent north once more now that he was wed and his wife with child herself. A month later, the Lioness was sent home for a month for her horse’s injury. Joren was half suspicious that that was just an excuse to see her family, but perhaps that was just his way of thinking as the lady was notorious for her hatred of boats due to severe sea-sickness and she was sailing directly to her home and back when her ‘horse’ recovered. 

He was also privy a short while later to the information from George Cooper that his daughter was missing. She had supposedly decided to take her personal sailing ship to Fief Legann to get some space from her mother as they didn’t see eye to eye with regards for her path for her future. She had never arrived at fief Legann however, and her ship was missing as well. Joren cringed at the information. He had met the vibrate Lady Alianne of Pirate’s Swoop a few times over the previous years. She was a few years younger than Kel and Joren suspected the girl was more like her father than her mother, if she sneaky behavior was any indication. Still, he felt sympathy for the family and wondered how the Lioness was handling her daughter going missing while she was at war and unable to do anything about it. 

As spring transitioned into summer, the second summer his wife was away at war, the difference in the fighting from the previous year was evident. King Maggur’s grip over Scanra was clearly sliding. In addition to losing the killing devices, he had likely lost a good chunk of his best men the previous summer. Without the skill of good fighters and the terror the killing devices incited, one siege after another broke eventually. The first to break was the City of the Gods, on the first week of summer. Joren was almost certain that the very fact that the killing devices weren’t there to cause issues was enough to enable the city filled with mages to force the Scanrans off and take down what they could manage of their forces in the process. 

As summer progressed, the next siege to break and the Scanran troops to fall back were Frasrlund, and with them, the majority of the enemy still in Tortall. Not long after George’s spies finally found out where Maggur had squirreled away the family members of the lords of the council of ten of Scanra. Joren felt a wave of glee three weeks later when those family members were escorted by Lord Raoul and the King’s Own Third Company into Corus. They had met the spies that had broken the family members out of the keep that was painfully close to the border at the Vassa and escorted them, and their most vulnerable spies who’d done the work, south. 

Two weeks after King Jonathan sent a missive to the Council of Ten containing letters from their families, Scanra was suing for peace, via fire scrying communication. Joren felt a level of smug satisfaction as he stood proudly next to King Jonathan as they greeted the envoys sent by the Council that had since deposed Maggur and placed another member in his place. Joren hadn’t heard much about the new King Loran Lainson but supposed that wasn’t surprising as the kings were whoever suited Scanra’s needs that day. With the Council’s families, they effectively had the country in their palms and the envoys were clearly aware of this. 

Adding to this that apparently Kel’s reputation was already well established and Joren had a fun time of intimidating the envoys. The long scar on his face along with the eyepatch indicated that he had seen battle and in a strange twist, when facing the envoys of a country they had been at war with, the congress that had been split in two and bickering for the majority of the summer over various laws to be passed suddenly banded together at the sight of a common enemy. Joren was the easiest access point for progressives and conservatives alike on what they thought were suitable concessions from Scanra to be conveyed to the king.

Sir Gareth and King Jonathan knew that was how things would play out, something that Joren suspected they had orchestrated over the past few years, having made him into the man standing the middle ground. It was like he had become the funnel of information for the king and Joren realized he had stopped minding, despite his prior dislike for politics. In part, this was because it gave him something useful to do that truly mattered. So, he compiled lists of suggestions. Ideas that he thought were perfectly reasonable and should be absolutely demanded for peace to be agreed to, ideas that while good ideas were less likely to be seen as reasonable by Scanrans and thus would need to be negotiated for, and ideas that were completely ridiculous, but could be used as bargaining points, things that Tortall could ‘consider letting go of’ if Scanrans were willing to concede on some other, much more reasonable point. 

When he brought the lists to Jonathan and Sir Gareth, they had almost evil, manic grins. Joren realized he had probably played right into their hands by sorting through it for them but then he was at the point where he wanted to have something valid to do since he certainly couldn’t really fight any more. The next month was spent with Joren neck deep in the negotiations and he suddenly found something of politics that he enjoyed. He had picked up the skill of keeping his face Yamani blank from Kel and he could tell that it unnerved the Scanran envoys. As did his ability to read the most stoic of them with ease. These man weren’t nearly as expressionless as they thought.

His previous love of trying to decipher Kel and get a rise out of her had become an uncanny tool in the negotiations and he enjoyed every moment of it. King Jonathan himself admitted after one session that it was a little unnerving to see Joren’s expression being blank and then him blurting out some calculating observation or factor that seemed to put the Scanrans on uneven footing before getting them to fall into agreeing to something they weren’t certain of before.

“How exactly do you figure out what makes them uneasy? They’re all arrogant, stoic men who could rival the Yamani for blank faces. Then again so could you,” Sir Gareth grumbled in annoyance after their latest session that had finally gotten the Scanrans to concede on one of their more reasonable demands.

Joren snorted in amusement, “Have you met my wife, Gary? Those men are child’s play compared to trying to read my wife’s expressions when she doesn’t want you to know what she’s feeling. They all have little ticks, their eyes flicker in a direction or they give a slight wince. Gods, if you brought Yuki or Shinko in there with us, they could probably do the same thing I’m doing. They could probably do it better than me, it’s just that they don’t look very intimidating at present being pregnant.” Joren had relaxed in the formality with Gary due to their constant work together.

“I don’t know about that, those two can be rather menacing these days, but then most pregnant women are,” Gary replied with a chuckle. “My wife was utterly terrifying.”

Joren smirked, “Your wife also has a temper to rival the Lioness’s. See, that’s the nice thing about my wife. She may be able to destroy me in a fight, but she rarely loses her temper and she’s very easy to reason with if you aren’t being a complete moron about something.”

King Jon chuckled at that, “You are a strong man to admit your wife can beat you in a fight, Joren.”

Joren scoffed at that, “I’m lame and missing an eye, half the kingdom’s squires should be able to take me in a fight. My wife is easily the third best fighter Tortall has to offer. The other two being Sir Alanna and Lord Raoul, and Lord Raoul trained her. Kel’s beat a man who was nearly a foot taller than her in a one on one fight in close quarters, who was probably Scanra’s best fighter. Gods, Lord Wyldon is definitely the best jouster Tortall has and she managed to keep her seat through three rounds against him as a squire. I’ve my pride, but I’m not delusional, Your Majesty.”

“Really? The third best? Whose fourth?” Gary asked curiously.

“Wyldon, of course, I did say he’s the best jouster of Tortall. He just isn’t in as much practice in taking on killing devices, giants of men, literal giants, and ogres,” Joren observed pointedly. 

Gary nodded sagely, “Fair enough.” 

The negotiations continued for another month while the northern border was under a cease-fire during the process. At the end of that month, nearly every reasonable noble in Tortall was satisfied with the results and Jonathan was gleeful with the concessions being made by Scanra. The country had to swear to not attack Tortall at all within the next twenty years or risk immediate and harsh retaliation and war reigniting, something that Scanra couldn’t afford at present as even this last one was a strain on them, having taken heavy losses in their most skill fighting forces. 

They also had to pay a hefty ransom for the return of their families, who were to be held until it was paid. Jonathan intended to use these funds to improve the northern roads and increase fortifications built along the border, as no one really expected the Scanra to maintain the peace for longer than ten years. They never did. Furthermore, they had to pay reparations for damages to the refugees, who had lost their homes and families due to the fighting. Joren had been ruthless in this as he knew that it would make a massive difference for the future. Finally, Scanra had to concede a small portion of land between the Vassa and Brown rivers. It wasn’t much, but it was more designed as a slap to the face of the Scanrans that they had gone to war to steal Tortall’s land and instead lost their own. There were various, other, small points that had been negotiated over, but those were the key points.

The Scanran Envoys left with the signed treaty and a short six weeks later, a wagon baring the ransom for the Council of Ten’s families and the reparations was escorted by the Lord Raoul and Third Company into the city. They departed a short while later to return the families north. They would be met at the border by Scanran troops and that would be the end of that. Jonathan didn’t release the majority of the knights on the border under crown service, Kel included, until fall began to set in, and it was clear that Scanra was actually planning on honoring the treaty rather than just playing homage to get their families back.

Joren was well aware of the order being sent out for a majority of the knights to be called home. He also knew roughly how long it would take for their arrivals if they were heading for Corus. Thus, Joren knew that Kel was due back any day, but as he was also planning on wintering in Stone Mountain this year, partly to ensure the fief was doing well under his uncle’s care, and partly because he wanted Kel to see their home, finally, almost two years after they married, he was buried under work that needed completion before they headed back north. 

Thus, he was startled when he heard his assistant speaking in the other room, “I’m sorry, milady. Lord Joren has orders not to be disturbed by anyone other than the King or Prime Minister at present.”

“What about by his wife?” Kel’s voice sounded amused, thankfully, rather than annoyed.

As soon as Joren had heard Kel’s voice, he grabbed his cane and limped over to the door, “Kel! You’re back!” He didn’t contain his joy as he took in his wife’s appearance. As she was dressed not in mail or any form of armor, but rather in a dress and had clearly cleaned up. Joren realized she either had to have stopped at their rooms or at the townhouse where the majority of Kel’s more ladylike apparel was kept. 

Kel immediately broke into a smile and swiftly crossed the few steps into his office, “I suppose that answers that question.” She remarked smugly to his assistant.

Joren chuckled as he looked at the man, “My wife is always to be given admittance to my workspace unless I’m with the King or Prime Minister, understood?”

“Of course, sir. My apologies. I didn’t recognize Lady Stone Mountain as I have never met her in person,” The assistant confirmed swiftly.

“It’s alright, I understand. Just don’t allow it to happen again,” Joren ordered before adding as an afterthought. “Also be aware that it isn’t likely to be uncommon for my Lady wife to be joining in on meetings over various matters.”

“Of course, sir. I am aware that Lady Stone Mountain is close friends with the Crown Princess and Lady Yukimi of Queenscove. It is perfectly reasonable for her to have a valuable input in government matters,” The assistant stated before turning back to his work.

Joren shook his head muttering, “That’s not what I meant.”

Kel leaned against Joren’s desk as he shut and locked the door, “Why, Lord Stone Mountain, what ever could you mean by inviting a lady into your office and then locking the door?” She teased.

Joren growled lowly, “The only thing that a husband could mean when said lady is his wife and she has been away at war for over a year.” He leaned his cane against the desk and wrapped one arm around Kel’s waist and the other hand gently on the back of her neck to pull her in for a searing kiss.

The kiss was long and passionate for both their parts, Kel wrapping her arms tightly around him as well. When they pulled apart for air, both panted heavily and Joren leant his forehead against Kel’s, “Gods, I’ve missed you. Let’s run away and ignore the rest of the world for the remainder of our lives.” He joked as he resisted the urge to play with her hair that had been done up in a low bun.

Kel giggled lightly at that, “I don’t think King Jonathan would be pleased with that, what with you being his favorite political tool and I being a valued knight of the realm.” She kissed him again as they had recovered their breath enough to continue. Joren used what strength his good leg had as well as the strength in his arms to lift Kel fully onto his desk and then leaned against the desk himself as he continued to kiss her and began working on the laces holding her gown closed.

Kel stopped him at that, causing Joren to pull away with a frown. She was quick to explain, “I went to the townhouse first, as I wasn’t certain where I would find you. Your mother explained that you had been living at the palace due to it being easier. However, she also got it into her head that if I was going to the palace, I needed to be presentable, hence how I’m dressed. Once I arrived here, there was a notice at the gates that any returning knights have to report to the king for official release from duties to the crown. Thus, I have to be presentable for the king. I may have diverted my path to your office because I wasn’t going to go longer than necessary before seeing you, but I really do need to report to the king.”

Joren sighed and rested is head on her shoulders, “Damn. I knew about the orders, I just forgot for a moment. Heat of the moment, getting to see my stunning wife after such a prolonged absence.” He lifted his head and attempted a wink, though it was nearly impossible to determine it was a wink, given that he only had one eye now.

Kel kissed him lightly again, “Well, it’s a good thing that I declined your mother’s suggesting of face paint. We’d have made a real mess of it if I had worn any of that. I really should go report to the King though. Merric and Neal traveled south with me and headed directly to the palace, so undoubtedly, I’m expected.”

“Right, before you do though, don’t be surprised if King Jonathan mentions us going on a trip. I requested permission for us to got to Stone Mountain for the winter. In part because I just want to be alone with you for a while, but also because I need to check on it as I haven’t been there since before I left to retrieved the refugees from the North,” Joren quickly explained.

“Oh, wonderful, another northern winter. Well, at least we’ll have each other to keep each other company and warm. Care to escort me to the King’s audience chamber? We can claim it’s been so long since I was at the palace that I got lost,” She smirked.

“Unfortunately, I need to finish some work here before I really can allow myself further distractions. I’ve been staying at the palace as it really is easier, and it gives Mother and Oliver a bit more independence. However, if you want to stay in the townhouse that’s fine, I can move my things there. It does have more space…” Joren stopped as Kel put a finger over his lips.

“We can stay here at the palace until we head for Stone Mountain. I can’t imagine us being here that much longer if we want to beat the winter snows anyways,” Kel commented with a smile.

Joren nodded, “I’ll send word to my valet to arrange for both our dinners tonight in our rooms.”

“Or I can inform him after my meeting with the king,” Kel gave him a final peck on the lips before she scooted off the desk and fixed her rumpled skirts. “I’ll see you for dinner, my love.”

Joren smiled widely at her as she unlocked the door and left. Joren grumbled annoyedly as he forced himself to refocus on his work. Fortunately, with the motivation of Kel’s company, Joren managed to plow through the remainder of his work for the day and the next as well as some for the day after that. When he finished off just before the evening bell rang, Joren collected his cane and left his room and eyed his assistant who had been a little overwhelmed by the work the Joren had already completed in the afternoon.

“Aren’t men supposed to be too distracted to work properly when their wives are around,” The assistant groused.

Joren chuckled, “Ah, but I intend on taking tomorrow off, and didn’t feel like getting scolded for being an errant schoolboy. That’s a mighty big motivator. On that note, if the King or Sir Gareth ask where I am, point out that my wife has just returned, and they will likely understand.” With that he gave his assistant a nod and departed for his rooms. When he returned, he found Kel unpacking her things with Tobe helping his valet set out a meal for them. 

Joren nodded at the boy who had clearly had a growth spurt, “You know, Daine is back at the palace, Tobe. I’m sure she would be happy to assist you in some training with your horse magic, if you’d like. There’s also the old palace Head Hostler, Stefan Groomsman who also has horse magic, if you don’t want to bother Daine.” Joren added the second part when the boy looked like he was horrified at the idea of going to Daine for training.

Tobe shuffled his feet a bit before responding, “I might seek an introduction with Stefan Groomsman if I have time between all my work with Milady, Lord Joren. Peachblossom told me that he’s a good’un to know.” 

Joren nodded, “That he is. I’m glad to see your speech has improved quite a bit as well. You’ll find that a lot of the palace servants are a bit stuck up. I’m certain that William will be happy to show you around the palace so you can perform your duties properly.” He gave the boy a smile and glanced at his valet.

“Of course, I will show the lad around, milord. I’ve no doubt we will both have a bit of work to do before we head back to Stone Mountain for the winter. It’s better he learns the basics of palace life now rather than later,” William smiled. “Now, I believe you and the mistress will be wanting some alone time. Come along, Tobeis, I can show you were the servants dine and I’ll give you a few pointers on who you’d do well to avoid as they will pester you constantly for our masters’ attention,” William gave Joren a wink as he guided the reluctant boy from the room. 

Kel chuckled as Joren immediately locked the door and then held out her chair for her, “That was kind of you.”

“Yes, well, Tobe needs to adjust to palace life quickly. It will make things easier for him at our castle if he understands where he sits in the pecking order for servants. I don’t think he quite realizes how much standing personal servants have compared to cleaning staff or how he will have higher standing as the personal servant to you as opposed to that of a Baron or a knight or the like,” Joren pointed out.

“Oh, he probably knows a bit of it. Remember, we did pick him up in an inn. It’s more likely that he will have some difficulty remembering that he’s much higher positioned in that hierarchy than some of the pushier servants are,” Kel sighed. “And here we are discussing our servants like stuffy old nobles would.”

Joren snorted, “No, on the contrary, we are discussing our servants’ comfort. That’s something some stuff old noble would never care about. I’m certain the only time my father minded the servants was when there was a pretty looking one among them for him to trifle with. Not that you need to worry about that with me.”

“No, I certainly don’t. I had a lovely run in with my cousin Tallia while you were working. She informed me that you had a rough time of fending off some unwanted advances,” Kel gave him a raised eyebrow.

“Well, there was certainly a reason my assistant was reluctant to allow an unknown woman into my office, love,” Joren observed, giving her a responding raised eyebrow.

Kel, who had just taken a sip of juice nearly choked on her drink. After coughing for a moment, she looked incredulous, “One of them broke into your office?”

Joren nodded wryly, “I had the locks replaced with magical ones and got an assistant after that. Fortunately, when I entered to office, I was with Sir Gary, so I avoided any scandalous rumors. The lady in question tried to claim she had gotten turned about and lost.”

“And magically appeared in a locked office?” Kel asked with amusement. “I thought only the gifted of Black Robe level were capable of teleportation.”

Joren snorted in amusement, “Yes, Sir Gary and I didn’t buy it either.” 

Kel sighed again and set her cup aside, “Well, as amusing as that is, we need to have an important discussion.” With that she reached into her pouch and pulled out her pregnancy charm.

Joren raised an eyebrow at this as she set it on the table, “About children?” He guessed.

Kel nodded, “If you think about it, this is likely to be the most optimal time for me to get pregnant. Tortall is at peace, but we have no idea how long that will last. Also, King Jonathan and Lord Raoul have both heavily hinted at the possibility of my being Lord Raoul’s replacement as Knight Commander of the King’s Own when he eventually retires. Furthermore, it’s looking more and more likely that you will be playing a major role going forward in the government, specifically, in Roald’s reign, when that time eventually comes. As such, I hope you would agree that having one child now, hopefully the socially expected boy, but I hope it doesn’t matter to you what gender the child is, and then, if it’s still peaceful in a few years’ time, another.” Kel looked expectantly at Joren.

He eyed her with suspicion, “You aren’t just suggesting this because you think it’s what is expected of you, right, Kel? I want you to know I would never pressure you for children immediately even if it is what society expects of us. We’re both still very young and there really isn’t any rush.”

“No, Joren, I want children, I want your children. I’m also aware that people will talk if a child isn’t born within the year now that I’m back from war, but that isn’t my motivation. The simple fact of the matter for us is that the life of a knight is hard, we both know that. There are also events that can cause a woman to be unable to bare anymore children… This isn’t something that Lady Alanna wants publicly known, but she shared it with me in confidence and said it was alright if I told you. Not long after she had her twins, about a year after, Lady Alanna received a gut wound. Fortunately, there was a healer at hand, and she survived but… she was informed that she wouldn’t be able to have any more children. While I understand that it’s unlikely to happen to me, it was more of a point that there’s no absolute certainties in life. We both want and, as nobles with a fief, need to have children. Now is the most reasonable time for us to do so with minimal issues. If I get pregnant now, I can have the baby next summer and still reasonably take on one of the girls who will be finishing their final page years next summer,” Kel explained. 

Joren hesitated, “You truly want to have a child now, not just because of expectations, but because it’s what you want?” He finally asked. He certainly wanted children. It was more a matter of ensuring that Kel wanted it as well, given that the pregnancy wasn’t something that he could do much in, other than ensuring she was comfortable.

“Yes,” Kel answered firmly.

Joren nodded, “Alright.” He took the pregnancy charm and tucked it into his pocket to be stored until the child was born. 

They were only in Corus for another two weeks, mostly because Joren needed to finalize things. Once the formalities were done, the trip north was made in a well-equipped carriage, though Kel did spend part of her day riding Peachblossom or Hoshi. Peachblossom was an old grouch by this point, but Joren didn’t comment on it. The two mages that Joren had hired to assist Kel at the refugee camp had chosen to stay in their employ and traveled north with them as well as Tobe, William, and a Lady’s maid that Joren’s mother had insisted would be absolutely necessary for Kel. The shy girl, Trina Mills, had come to them on Lalasa’s recommendation as she had originally been hired to work in her shop but had a greater interest in having the security and protection afforded a noble’s servant over that avalible to a shop girl. 

Kel had quietly grumbled about starting over from scratch with the timid thing that she explained she suspected had a similar background to Lalasa. Still, Trina was skilled and efficient in her duties. With Tobe managing the horses, and Trina and William handling their comfort on the trip, it went more easily than Joren had anticipated given his leg’s perpetual weakness. They reached Stone Mountain just before the early snow, a fact made abundantly clear by the detail that the very evening of their arrival, a snowstorm blew in, effectively snowing them into the keep for a few days. 

Three weeks after their arrival, Joren was reminded by Kel of his promise to show her the hidden room in one of the towers that he had found as a child. Kel and his Uncle Lionel both got an amused laugh at the sight of the gilded armor clearly designed for a petite woman much smaller than Kel or even Alanna. Along with the armor, there was a few family record books that covered the long history, prior to the two hundred year period ban on female knights, of the Stone Mountain lords taking Lady Knights as wives to ensure ‘strong, healthy children that were both intelligent and clever’ and having daughters and sons alike seek their knighthood. There were some other artifacts, such as chain mail, and elaborate jewelry that doubled as weapons. Among all this, Joren’s uncle found a letter, covered in dust, on one of the stacks of records books.

He handed it to Joren, who leaned against the wall and carefully opened the ancient letter:

Dear Descendent, 

I don’t know how long into the future this will be read, only that a seer had informed me that this room won’t be found again until women will be permitted once more to be knights and thus, hopefully our family’s heritage will be preserved. A law has just been passed that I fought viciously against. It is an imbecilic law banning woman from obtaining their knighthoods or even holding any profession that ‘places them at undue risk’. It not only has the potential of ruining the way of life for both my family and for Tortall as a whole. I can only hope that the duration of this useless law will be short, along with the duration of the ridiculous ‘Church of the Gentle Mother’. I can only assume that the Mother Goddess has some very important and distracting issues in another part of the world that consumes her attention completely for this nonsense to have persisted and spread this far. 

I will pray nightly for her to notice this folly and put it to rights shortly. In the meantime, my late Adaline’s armor, and more subtle weaponry, as well as our family’s extensive histories will be stored here in this hidden vault. The king has not only gone so far as to pass the law banning female knights, he has also ordered that any and all armament for women be destroyed and I can only imagine that any records of women knights will follow in a few generations as well.

Furthermore, my idiot son, and do not ask me how my brilliant wife and I produced such a closed-minded child for I am as baffled as any man might be, has bought into this Church of the Gentle Mother nonsense and gone and betrothed himself to a daughter of a noble family that is neck deep in that bull dung heap. Thus, I am forced to protect our linage and heritage in the only manner I can manage. Fortunately, my son is seldom at Stone Mountain, preferring the gaudy baubles of court to his family and noble duties. Thus, he has no idea of the construction of this room. As the villagers and my servants are of the opinion to despise my son and had always adored my wife, I am certain they will not inform him of it either. 

I can only hope that whichever descendant that reads this is a much wiser person than my son and my king. If you are, I hope you will honor our family’s traditions, if you have not married, and there are once more female knights, try to find your bride among them. Encourage your daughters to seek their knighthoods and your sons to marry for the strength and wisdom of the woman, and not merely her appearances. My son had failed in this, I can only hope that you, my descendant, can correct his errors.

Sincerely, Lord Brode of Stone Mountain

Joren eyed his wife and then the letter and then chuckled, “I swear I didn’t read this at any point in the past.”

His uncle laughed outright, “No, but that does explain a curious feature I’ve noticed in the Stone Mountain men. All the lords are drawn towards marrying strong, independent-minded women. It was always a peculiar phenomenon, I thought. Burchard hated our mother who was a fiercely determined woman. Burchard hated it, yet he chose to marry a woman just like her. The attraction to strong, intelligent women must be genetic, it’s the only explanation.”

Joren handed the letter to Kel who read through it and chuckled as well, “I feel that we should honor your many times great grandfather and put this armor and weaponry on display, the letter too. Even if it will cause people to question your motives for marrying me.”

“I can always pen a letter for future generations stating that I had already chosen to marry you prior to reading this letter. Personally, I think we should see if King Jonathan will display the armor at the Palace in Corus. My ancestor’s silent defiance over a law that King Jonathan himself overturned. It would likely tickle his fancy,” Joren chuckled. “But I want the letter to go into the royal archives. I want it to be known that the Stone Mountain family may have been conservative during the reign of the Gentle Mother, but it went directly against our blood to do so. This is the right path for us, though I won’t force any of my sons to marry a lady knight, that will be their choice to make, I believe they may just do so anyways.”

His uncle nodded in agreement at that and eyed Kel sagely, “I’ll go speak with the steward about having all this moved to their proper places. The armor can go to the room where we display the armor of our honored ancestors, the books can go back to the library with the rest of the family records, where they belong, and I’ll leave it to Lady Stone Mountain to decide what she wants done with her predecessor’s jewelry.”

Kel gave him a raised eyebrow before nodding and beginning to examine all the pieces. Most, she declared too fragile to be used, due to their age. She decided to have them displayed with the armor, as most of it contained some level of weaponry as well. There were a few sets of hair sticks like the ones Joren had once gifted Kel, a hair ornament that looked to be designed to go in a complex hair braid that had obvious gems and concealed spikes in the event that someone grabbed the lady’s hair, a bladed fan similar, but less heavy than the ones used by the Yamani, though clearly styled after them. There were a variety of other jewelry/weapons that had both Kel and Joren admire the cunning and ingenuity of Joren’s ancestresses. 

Joren even commented that he wanted a few recreated for Kel to use, as they were rather clever, like a locket that concealed a long, thin garrote wire. It was an inventive one. The next few weeks were an amusing combination of working out how to display the armor and Kel exploring the local villages. Within the month of their arrival at Stone Mountain, Kel began experiencing morning sickness. If not for a politely worded warning from Joren’s mother, when she learnt that they were attempting to have a child, Joren might have panicked at waking to find his wife heaving her stomach’s contents into the chamber pot.

Instead, he offered her a weak smile and sent Trina for Ragar to see if the healer had anything to help settle her stomach. Ragar came, confirmed that Kel was indeed expecting and likely had been since almost directly after her return to Corus, and gave her a tea that she was to take every morning and any other time she felt ill. Kel declared it the first healer prescribed tea that was palatable. Joren and Trina shared a confused look as the tea smelt rather unpleasant to them. Neither opted to comment, however.

Ragar noted their expressions and chuckled before informing them that pregnant women often found their tastes altered. Joren nodded at this, as it made far more sense than his wife truly enjoying a medicinal tea. He did reason that at least his wife would be able to tolerate the tea that helped her though. 

Joren found that he didn’t mind the length of this winter as much as he had the previous. In addition to the sheer bliss of his wife’s presence, Joren got a rather amusing bit of information that Kel was easily bored and when she was bored, she ended up trying to occupy herself without bothering Joren. The result of this was Kel collecting all the other pregnant women in the village, of which there were quite a few given that Stone Mountain was once more paying proper homage to the Goddess, and persuading them to teach her how to properly embroider things for the baby, with the assistance of Trina. 

When she had presented her first attempts, Joren made the mistake of laughing, as while Kel was a skilled warrior, she lacked the artistic skills necessary for embroidery. This resulted in Kel in uncharacteristic tears and a hoard of angry, pregnant, village woman descending upon him the next day. This was probably more terrifying to Joren than even the killing devices. Joren make token attempts to distract her from future embroidery pursuits but failed miserably. Thus, he was reduced to spending the entire winter watching his wife gleefully practice a pursuit he was certain she was going to never use after she had the baby and enduring her roller coaster of emotions. 

As spring neared, Ragar confirmed that Kel was bearing twins and recommended that the birth occur in Corus, where there were more healers avalible. In addition to this, Joren did have to return to court to continue his work for King Jonathan. Thus, as soon as the snow had melted, the couple packed up for their return to Corus, taking with them the armor of Joren’s ancestress and her elaborate weaponry disguised as jewelry. They had to take the trip slowly, stopping frequently to allow Kel to stretch and ease her discomfort from the long trip. 

It took over three weeks and the first person they encountered upon returning to Corus was Lord Wyldon, who took one look at Kel and chuckled, “Lady Keladry, you look to be positively glowing. When is the child due to be born?”

Joren smiled, “Ragar believes it will be the end of June or early July. Though, she is carrying twins, so it’s possible they could be born sooner.”

Wyldon’s eyes widened at the revelation, “Well, you certainly made the correct choice in coming to Corus then. Congratulations, Lord Joren. I expect you are pleased?”

“Absolutely thrilled. I imagine my mother will be too, once we are able to inform her. She’s apparently visiting Lady Nond at present,” Joren remarked wryly. He had been annoyed to find his mother and brother had decided to make an unexpected trip, but based on the letter she’d left him, the ancient Lord Nond’s health was fading fast, which meant that Sir Paxton would soon be inheriting the Nond Fief and his sister would require his mother’s support. 

Joren and Kel opted to once more reside within the palace rather than in their townhouse, as it meant they were closer to a ready supply of healers for Kel and Joren wouldn’t have as many difficulties in traveling for his work for the King. King Jonathan had been all too thrilled to learn that Kel was pregnant with twins, making a comment about silencing rumors once and for all. What rumors, Joren didn’t want to know. Yuki and Shinko, having already had their children, both boys, were also far more successful at distracting Kel from her ill thought attempts of embroidery. Instead, Queen Thayet had ensconced herself with Kel, Shinko, and Yuki in creating an elaborate tribute and display to women knights of old. The Stone Mountain family’s armor and the jewelry of the late Lady Adaline were to be the center piece, along with the letter of Joren’s long dead ancestor. 

When Sir Paxton returned to Corus in late May with news of his father’s death, he also brought with him a similar collection of artifacts from before the ban on female warriors, found by him in a similar cache. Paxton had thought to look for one only after hearing of the Stone Mountain one and had shocking success, though the collection his family had was much smaller. It was worked into the display quickly. Sir Alanna wrote to the Baron of Trebond to search her old family home and to everyone’s amusement, a cache even larger than Joren’s family’s had been was discovered. With some effort, it was also transported to the palace to be added to what was looking to be a forming exhibit to lady knights. 

It started a flurry of a trend to see exactly how many families had had ancestors who acted in a similar manner to Joren’s, choosing to conceal and protect their histories rather than allow the cult of the Gentle Mother destroy the truth. All told, nearly a third of the families that predated the Gentle Mother cult had hidden away artifacts rather than destroy them. To Joren’s relief, as he was frequently buried under piles of work for King Jonathan, Kel was kept well preoccupied with aiding in organizing all the artifacts from a time when women were as respected in combat as men. 

However, as June began Kel was ordered to bed rest by the healers, given that carrying multiple children was a strain even on her body, which was larger and sturdier than the average woman’s. Sir Alanna admitted that giving birth to her own twins had been extremely difficult given her size and that she envied Kel’s height because it had allowed her to stay active much longer than Alanna had managed it. Joren’s mother and Kel’s both endeavored to keep Kel entertained, to little success, once she was placed on bedrest. 

The bedrest did little good as less than a week after being placed on it, Kel was experiencing labor pains. Joren found himself being ejected from his own rooms by a pack of healers, his mother, mother-in-law, sisters-in-law, of whom nearly everyone had come, his sisters, Queen Thayet, Lady Yuki, Princess Shinkokami, and Lalasa. Honestly, if Joren had to admit it, he probably wouldn’t have fit in the room even if he were permitted to attend the birth of his children. Neal, who had been banned in advance from the birthing process, Roald, and Cleon provided Joren with company.

“What I don’t understand, is why the queen gets to attend the birth of my children, but I don’t. It’s obnoxious. I can understand Shinko and Yuki, they’re at least Kel’s friends, close friends, and even all Kel’s sisters, though I have no idea why Lady Patricine felt it was necessary to come all the way from the Yamani Islands for this. Still, they at least make an ounce of sense. But the queen doesn’t,” Joren muttered and grumbled.

Roald and Neal shared a look. Roald was the first to speak, “It’s because they’re hoping for two girls or at least one. You need to understand that up until myself and my younger siblings, the royal family’s bloodline had been dwindling. Yes, we injected healthy new blood into the system with my mother’s marriage to my father, which is why we didn’t have the issues of my father’s generation, where he was the only child, and my marriage to Shinko, but a lot of nobles have been making a fuss about the foreign marriages, especially with my next oldest sibling as Empress of Carthak. However, given our friendship, and your family being Book of Gold nobility, and Kel’s family’s… fertility… It’s an appealing prospect to them long-term.”

Joren glared at Roald, “So, what you’re saying is that the queen has been eyeing my unborn children for the hope of securing further royal stability?”

Roald shrugged, “I have my have five younger siblings, but one is an Empress in her own right, and thus can’t be a direct option for the throne. In addition to this, our next nearest relation is Lady Dunlath, who’s family’s reputation is still struggling to be repaired when her elder sister attempted to overthrow my father, never mind that she’s three generations removed. Our next nearest relations after her is Queenscove over there who is the last remaining son himself and has only one son so far and his wife is also foreign. So, yes, I think it’s safe to say my mother is very determined to see that a trusted young lady of Tortallan lineage of a near age to my eldest son is considered a top future contender as a future bride.”

Joren cringed, “Do me a favor and never mention that to Kel. She wants our children to be knights and live much freer lives.”

“I have no objection to my son marrying a knight, Joren. I’d have to be a massive hypocrite if I did, given that my wife is lethal with a glaive, my mother is a terror to behold with a bow and arrow, my godmother was the first female knight in two hundred years, the godmother to my son is the second, oh, and a dear friend to boot,” Roald retorted with a snort. “However, I have a strong suspicion that even if there aren’t any formal betrothals in the near future, if one of those babies your wife produces is female, we’ll be looking at the future queen.”

“This isn’t helping my anxiety about my not being with Kel as she gives birth to my children,” Joren glared at his friend. 

Before anyone could comment, the door to the room they had commandeered opened and Jonathan entered, followed by Joren’s brother-in-law Toshuro noh Akaneru, who had come with Patricine for Kel’s labor. The two men were followed by servants with refreshments and Raoul who slumped down into an empty chair. Joren gave the giant of a man a raised eyebrow, “Buri just joined the rest of the ladies. You’d think those babies were some prophesied miracles destined to bring peace to the world with the fuss being made over this.”

Jonathan snorted, “If Thayet has her way and one’s a girl, then they think the child will be the security of the realm for the next century. Sorry, Joren. I did try to dissuade her of the notion of how perfect it would be if your daughter married Roald’s son, but she’s still bitter about the whole Dunlath and Carthak thing and a lot of nobles are irritated that my only grandchild is only technically a quarter Tortallan, even if he is of the Conte line. I think she looks at Kel and sees a young woman who will produce strong, healthy daughters who in turn will produce more healthy, strong children.”

Joren groaned and flopped down into a chair. Toshuro didn’t seem the slightest bit phased by this, “It would be a good marriage prospect for your daughters. The Emperor and Empress have already betrothed my eldest daughter to be his eldest grandson’s future Empress. It is a great honor for our family that I know is because of Patricine’s being able to have so many healthy children. I am truly blessed.” 

Joren resisted giving the man the stink eye, “Oh? How old was your daughter when this betrothal was arranged?”

“Two days old. She is now ten and her beauty grows daily. The Emperor is greatly pleased by her talents as well. She will be a wonderful Empress,” Toshuro responded with conviction. 

Joren refrained from commenting on it, though it struck him that, if Thayet had her way, he would be father to a queen and uncle by marriage to an Empress. That was, ironically, something his father would have coveted, but didn’t make Joren comfortable at all. Jonathan hadn’t commented on the discourse, but Joren suspected that the king might be of a like mind with Thayet despite his claim otherwise, thinking of the future of the realm as a whole in ensuring a healthy, strong lineage for the crown.

Instead, Jonathan attempted to coax Joren into eating and then they began discussing the upcoming congress that summer and the laws they wanted to alter, funds needed for projects, and anything else that drew Joren’s attention from the fact that his wife was in labor. They were mid-discussion on how improving the road north could help revitalize the dwindling economy in the north with more than just mining and provide better long-term protection from Scanra when Lalasa entered. She immediately curtsied to them, even with the squalling infant wrapped in a blanket in her arms.

“Lady Keladry wished that you be shown first, milord. Your son,” Lalasa immediately brought the baby to Joren.

He couldn’t help the wave of awe and love flowing through him as he took his first born in his arms. The baby’s face was red from crying, but he settled a bit as Joren rocked him. There was a soft down of blond hair on his wrinkly head as Joren began pacing, more sedately around the room while Lalasa exited. Raoul was the first to pip up, “What name did you settle on for a boy?” 

Joren smirked and shook his head, “I promised I would let Kel tell the names we chose.” He chuckled as he said that. 

He allowed himself be entranced with his son for a while longer until he boy started fussing again just as Lalasa came in again with another baby and looking a bit dazed, “A girl, milord… Um… the healers say there’s another child yet. Master Ragar admitted it can sometimes be difficult to detect when there are more than two.” Joren handed the boy, whose name would, in truth, be Raoul, hence his unwillingness to admit it to the man the boy was named for, to Roald and took his daughter.

Roald worked to help soothe the boy as Joren did the same with his daughter, whom they were naming Adaline. They had settled on the name to honor Joren’s long dead ancestress who had been the last lady knight in his family before the ban.

It didn’t take long before Lalasa returned, followed by Ilane with the final baby, “Another boy. The healers say she is tired, by Joren may see her and the babes need to feed.” His mother-in-law announced firmly. 

Joren nodded and Roald quickly surrendered baby Raoul to his grandmother. Joren didn’t relinquish his daughter, instead just giving his second son a brush of a finger on his cheek. Kel looked thoroughly exhausted when Joren entered but she gave him a smile as Raoul was handed over to her and one of the healers helped her adjust the baby to feed before arranging Adaline to feed next to him. Joren was glad he had persuaded Kel that with two babies, they would need a wet nurse as he watched Ilane hand their younger son, Brode, so named for his long dead ancestor who had preserved their family histories, off to be fed. Two babies would have been hard for Kel to feed on her own, three would have been near impossible.

Once the babies were fed, they fell asleep and the wet nurse and Lalasa settled them into the cot meant for them to sleep in. Kel was asleep before the last of the women departed and Joren sat at examined his little miracles. The healers had pronounced them all healthy and strong as possible, if a bit small due to their early birth. Joren felt a sense of contentment settle over him that he once wouldn’t have imagined possible.

“So, I’m willing to bet you’re all kinds of grateful to me right about now,” Joren jerked upright in surprise at the sudden appearance of Kyprioth. 

He stared at the god who he’d figured he’d seen the last of. Still, he knew he should admit the truth, “As a matter of fact, yes, I am. To my annoyance.”

The god chuckled, and Joren checked to ensure he wasn’t disturbing the babies or his wife. Kyprioth waved his hand, “Oh, no need to fuss. I’ll not wake them. I just wanted to congratulate you on getting one last laugh in. Your little wife there will truly have turned the court on its ear with this one. Of course, the Lioness’s daughter is carrying triplets as well, but your lady did it first and much more impressively. She has always struck me as an overachiever, you wife. I suppose it shouldn’t be surprising she managed this as well.”

Joren’s eyebrow raised at the tidbit on Alanna’s daughter who had ended up marrying a crow of all things in the Copper Isles. Kyprioth continued on though, “Lovely job with finding that hidden compartment, by the way. You provided the laws of nature with a great boon. So, I’ll provide one of my own.” He stretched his hand out over the babies and Joren frowned as a slight silvery bit of power flowed from the god into the babies.

“What did you do?” Joren asked with suspicion.

Kyprioth smiled politely, “Healing isn’t exactly my forte, but your children being born so early, even if they are healthy, does provide greater risks to their health. I just gave them a… temporary fortification. It will prevent them from growing ill in the first few years, so they don’t have any developmental problems this early on, and strengthened their heart, lungs, all the important things.”

Joren’s eyes widened. He was heartfelt when he spoke this time, “Thank you.” It was simple but sincere.

Kyprioth nodded, “You prevented the opportunity for that foul beast’s work to rise again, it was worth more than the boon you owed me for guiding you from the path of death, since you did most of the work yourself and still ended up in pretty rough shape considering your leg and eye. Besides, we can’t have a future queen falling ill before her time.” With that the god winked, shrugged, and vanished. 

Joren turned back to his children and muttered softly, “I hope this doesn’t turn any of you into little miscreants.” He then stripped, and curled up beside his sleeping wife, allowing the promised security of his children’s health to sooth him into sleep, failing to realize that his leg was lacking its usual ache, though he would notice it in the days to come.


End file.
